


Room 16

by Ciriovrivia



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: F/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Secret Relationship, contains thematic elements that are typical of SVU episodes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:08:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29786913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ciriovrivia/pseuds/Ciriovrivia
Summary: In the midst of your investigation of Gary Munson, ADA Rafael Barba receives serious death threats.
Relationships: Rafael Barba/Reader, Rafael Barba/You
Comments: 8
Kudos: 23





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first SVU fic! Wowee!  
> Some of the dialogue in the early chapters is ripped straight from the episodes, but it soon becomes divergent from canon.  
> Let me know what you think! <3
> 
> Episodes mentioned:  
> Community Policing (17.5)  
> Intersecting Lives (17.22)  
> Heartfelt Passages (17.23)

You woke with a start as Rafael’s phone started vibrating loudly. The sun was just rising. You groggily rolled over, your peaceful sleep unceremoniously interrupted, and saw Rafael rubbing his eyes while examining the caller ID on his still buzzing phone. He cleared his throat and answered, “ADA Barba.”

6:43am. Returning to sleep was futile at this point, so you threw the covers off and shuffled to the bathroom to prepare for the day.

You hear a soft thud as Raf returned his cell phone to the night stand by your bed.

“Who was that?” you called from the bathroom.

A brief moment passes before he answers, “Wrong number.” You don’t see the wave of panic on his face as you return from brushing the bathroom, your hair looking just slightly more tamed than the minute before.

“Coffee?”

“Is it too early for a scotch?” he chuckled humorlessly.

In your kitchen with coffee in hand, you mindless scrolled through your email notifications. “You working late tonight?”

“No rest for the wicked,” Rafael replied with a smirk. You rolled your eyes, and he continued, “Hopefully not too late, but this Munson case isn’t going to finish itself.”

“Well, as much as I hate missing you in the evenings, I would absolutely love for you to put that bastard away forever.” You, too, have been working Munson’s case. Finding a serial rapist is bad enough, but a prison guard exploiting his power over helpless women? It made you sick to your stomach.

“That will be my pleasure. Luckily, you and the squad have put together a very strong case for me. Being up against Munson alone is fine; the tough part is going against the Correctional Officers Union. I’m not sure I’ll be able to convince him to take a plea while he has the Union backing him up.”

“We’ll have witness testimony. If it goes to trial the jury will see what kind of man Munson is. You were able to help those inmates while we investigate. There’s no way they would testify without you. Without Charise’s help, we would had no case,” you replied, stepping toward Rafael’s warm body and playfully adjusting his lavender tie tucked into his vest. “You always win.”

“Not always,” he said, with a tinge of regret on his voice.

Your face fell into a solemn expression. “Munson is cocky. He’s used to getting exactly what he wants, and now his whole life is falling apart. Who knows what he’s going to do?”

“Hopefully, he’ll soon be on the other side of the prison bars. If I don’t see you tonight, I’ll see you at the arraignment tomorrow.” Rafael placed a quick kiss at your temple, before draining the last of his coffee and grabbing his suit coat off the back of the dining room chair.

You watched, voraciously, as he exited your apartment, giving you one last sultry glance before closing the door behind him.

You exhale a short sigh. Another long day ahead.

***

You crossed your legs, trying to find a modicum of comfort on the hard wood of the courthouse benches. Liv sat next to you, Mike Dodds on her other side as you all waited for the arraignment of Gary Munson to begin.

Gary Munson and his lawyer, Ed Pastrino, enter. Pastrino looks unbothered, his briefcase swinging nonchalantly as he places it on the defense table. Munson looks more shaken, but just as brutish as ever. His deep set eyes are full of disgust as he makes brief eye contact with you, Liv and Mike. He then glances at the other side of the gallery at his wife. She quickly looks away, her face stony.

Then enters Rafael Barba.

Your romantic relationship is still a secret from your coworkers and especially 1PP and the DAs office. It’s complicated. He doesn’t so much as glance as you as he strides over to the podium, looking nothing but business-like.

You feel your face flush. Just the sight of him in expensive suits makes your heart beats faster. He’s so in his element here, so confident and, frankly, sexy. You can’t help but imagine taking him away, back to your apartment to peel that suit off of him and feel his soft hands everywhere on your body.

You lower your gaze, hoping Olivia doesn’t notice your rosy cheeks. Your heart is pounding so hard you worry she can hear it.

Your fantasy is quickly dismissed from your mind as the judge began proceedings, “Mr. Barba, as I understand it, the defendant, Corrections Officer Gary Munson, is already under indictment on nine counts of rape, and one count of attempted rape.”

Barba stood tall and replied, “Yes, your Honor, but the grand jury has handed up a superseding indictment adding 15 counts of forcible touching, and 28 counts of sodomy. Given the quantity and severity of these additional charges, the people request that Mr. Munson's bail be revoked, and that he be remanded to protective custody in Rikers.”

“The defendant is not a flight risk,” Pastrino protested fervently. “He's the father of two young children who need him at home, as does his wife,” he gestures at Lisa Munson behind him.

The judge looks over to Munson, Pastrino, and finally Rafael. “Given his strong family and professional ties, I see no need for remand.”

Olivia scoffs beside you at the same you do and, softly remarks, “Oh, my God.”

“I will, however, increase the bail to $500,000. Next case.”

***

“I can’t believe he got bail.” Outside the courtroom, you stood with Dodds and Olivia, all three of you looking tense.

“And I’m sure the union will be able to raise the funds for him in no time,” Liv said.

“New York’s boldest,” Dodds said dryly.

Olivia looked at you, “Go find Barba and escort him back to his office. He’ll need protection after the threats he received at Munson’s first arraignment.”

Did you hear her correctly? Your heart began pounding faster, but not because of any fantasy. “Barba was threatened?” You tried to keep your face composed and professional as panic coursed through your body. “I- Who?”

“A man threatened to push him down the stairs outside and crack his skull open. We’re not sure how credible the threat was or who sent him,” Liv replied.

“I’ll find him, let me use the restroom first.” You left Liv and Dodds standing outside the doors, trying your best to hide your panic and anger. You needed a moment to collect yourself. Why didn’t he tell you?

***

Lisa Munson stood hunched over the bathroom sink, looking crestfallen.

“Mrs. Munson, I- I’m so sorry it happened like this. I’ll leave you alone,” you began to leave when she stopped you suddenly.

“No, no please don’t go,” she took a step toward you. “There’s a dozen COs from Rikers out there, I can’t talk to you in front of them.”

A brief look of confusion passed over your face. “Talk about what?”

“They're working on raising Gary's bail. I'm afraid he's going to get out.” She looked shaken to her core.

You proceeded carefully, “And you'd rather he be remanded?”

“I did what Lieutenant Benson said, and I uh- I got tested for STDs.” The look on her face told you the results weren’t good. “As soon as I got the results, I called a divorce lawyer.”

“Does your husband know?” You pictured Munson towering over Lisa raising a fist to his wife, terrifying rage distorting his features.

“No. And I stood by him today because I want him to think that I am in his corner until I can get my children out of there.”

There was not going to be an easy way out for her. “Okay. Okay, Mrs. Munson, I- I need you to please listen to me. I understand your wanting to leave. But in situations like this...”

“Women get killed,” she finished.

You took another step forward and put a reassuring hand on Lisa’s shoulder, “But we're not going to let that happen. Let me talk to my Lieutenant, we have ways to protect you, and in the meantime, I have to ask, does your husband have any guns in the house?”

She shook her head, “You confiscated his Sig when he was arrested. I've searched the house, he doesn't have any other weapons... except his temper.”

“Okay.” You considered her options. You thought of Barba being threatened outside the courthouse. If Munson is willing to threaten the ADA, he’ll certainly threaten the woman who is going to divorce him and take his kids. “It would be best for you to get out of the house before he comes back. You take care of yourself and your children, that is your first priority. You have any problems, you call me,” you said with what confidence you could muster.

You handed her your card. She began to leave the bathroom, but as her hand reached out for the handle she turned to face you once more.

“I thought I knew him, but he was lying to me for so long. Keeping things from me,” she said, beginning to choke up with tears. “You just-,” she paused. “You just never really know someone. Even if you think you do.” She wiped the tears from her eyes, gave you one last look and exited.

A moment passes. You swallow your fear and look at yourself in the mirror. You never really know someone.

***

You walked back into the courtroom and found Barba collecting his things. “You were threatened recently; isn’t it unwise to be alone?” There was more vitriol in your voice than you intended.

“I’m not alone now, am I?” He didn’t look up at you when he replied, “ADAs get threats all the time. If we let them prevent us from doing our job, the People wouldn’t prosecute anyone.”

“Really? That’s your excuse? It happens?” You approached him, both fear and anger welling up inside you. “You’re supposed to be better as arguments than this. Why didn’t you tell me, Rafael?”

He stopped shuffling his papers around and let out a heavy sigh. “I didn’t want you to worry.”

You scoff. “You know how ridiculous that sounds, right? What is it, you don’t want your cop girlfriend to have to protect you? Is your machismo that fragile?”

Rafael frantically looks around at your mention of ‘girlfriend,’ but the courtroom was empty aside from the two of you. “You know it’s not like that,” he said, finally looking you in the eye. You were close to him now. Close enough to reach out and touch him; one step further and you could lean forward and kiss him. Or slap him.

“Then what is like Raf? You lied to me.”

“Omitting a minor aspect of my day is lying now? You’re going to treat me like I’m under oath to tell you every detail of my life?”

“I don’t know, Raf! I don’t want it to feel like I need to interrogate you for you to tell me things that are important!” You hated feeling this way. This angry. You imagined Lisa Munson discovering the man she committed her life to was lying to her for years. Lying to their children. Had she felt this anger too?

Looking at Rafael, you know that he isn’t Gary Munson. He isn’t a liar. You just wished it didn’t feel that way right now.

You see the apology in his eyes, along with a hint of fear. He didn’t say ‘sorry’ out loud, but he looked up at your from under his brow with that beautiful intense gaze. It cracked your defenses, if only a bit.

“Raf, I know what we have between us is complicated, but you should’ve at least told me as a cop.”

“I told Liv what happened, but frankly we don’t even know if the threats are credible. I am fine,” he finished adamantly. “Now, are you going to escort me to my office, Detective?”

Detective? He knew the use of your formal title would worm its way under your skin. He was pushing you away. A pang of jealously contracted your stomach at the mention of his confidence Liv, but you buried it quickly. Be rational. Be a cop, not a girlfriend right now.

“Yes, of course, Counselor.” You followed Rafael out into the hallway.

***

A small paper plate with a thin rectangular slice of over-frosted vanilla cake was shoved into your hands, along with a small plastic fork.

“All right, Sarge, it took a minute, but you grew on me,” said Rollins, putting a fork with mostly frosting on it in her mouth.

Mike Dodds smiled and looked a little bashful at the comment from Rollins.

The whole department was crowded up, surrounding a half-eaten cake and a large, hand written sign that read, “Good Luck Dodds.” Dodds had grown on you too, although you wouldn’t miss his constant insistence on involving his father in everything.

You stood at the back of the crowd and looked halfheartedly at your cake, not taking a bite. You couldn’t get your fight with Rafael out of your head.

Mike Dodds was being congratulated all around for his career move to Joint Terrorism. Rollins peeled away from the crowd and leaned on the desk next to you. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you said, setting your uneaten cake down on the desk. Her suspicious expression told you she didn’t buy it. “Is my face that telling?” you asked bashfully.

“You know, if you ever need to talk, about anything, I’m here,” Amanda said gently.

“Amanda, I-,” You were graciously interrupted by your phone ringing in your pocket. Hoping it was Barba, you pulled it out quickly and checked the caller ID. “Unknown number.”

“Hello?” you answered tentatively.

“I’m- I’m so sorry to bother you.” You heard Lisa Munson’s voice on the other end of the call. You stood up, glancing at Amanda. “I’m packing up, Gary made bail.” She was speaking softly. Conspiratorially.

“Okay, okay,” You collected your emotions and tried to sound calm and reassuring. “Is your husband there now?”

“Yes, he is. With the kids. He’s alright, but I-”

“Do you need me to send a squad car?” You motioned for Amanda to get Liv. She took the hint and pushed through the crowd surrounding Dodds.

“No, no please. It’s- it’s been embarrassing enough. He’s already starting to ask questions that I don’t know how to answer.”

Amanda returned with Liv. “Okay, how about Lieutenant Benson and I come down there? We’ll keep it nice and quiet and calm. We’ll get you and your kids out of there.”

After a moment, Mrs. Munson agreed, “Okay, thank you.”

And hung up.

You look at Liv, “That was Lisa Munson. We need to do a clothes job. She’s leaving him.”

Rollins looked surprised, “He made bail?”

You nodded gravely. “Yes, and she just needs a little support to get out of there. She’s terrified of him.”

Mike Dodds had noticed the commotion and strode over, “Do you want me to come with?”

Olivia replied, “You’re packing up, it’s your last day.”

He looked adamant. “A guy like that? He sees a sergeant and a lieutenant, he’ll listen.”

After considering for a moment, Olivia replied, “You’re right. Let’s go.”


	2. Chapter 2

You updated Liv and Mike on your conversation with Lisa in the courthouse bathroom. “Lisa told me she searched the house after Munson got arrested and she didn’t find any other guns. This should be pretty routine.”

“Stay in the car, we don’t want him to think we’re laying siege on his house,” Liv told you after you pulled into the driveway of the Munson’s house. “Dodds and I will go in, I’ll let you know if we need anything.”

Olivia and Dodds approached the house and rang the doorbell. No one answered. You watched a brief conversation between them, as they inspected the small window at the top of the door, trying to tell if anyone was home. After a long moment, they began to leave when Lisa opened the door.

Her body language was tense and she didn’t immediately let them in. Something was wrong.

Gary Munson soon appeared right behind his wife. His tall stature towered over her in the doorway. He placed a commanding hand on her shoulder and smiled like nothing was amiss.

After a minute of what looked like tense conversation, Liv and Mike entered the house closing the door behind them.

Now, you just had to wait.

***

Rafael Barba strode through the hallway outside the courthouse rotunda, briefcase in one hand and phone aloft at his ear in the other.

“Did he leave a number?...I’ll be back in the office in an hour...Thanks.” Rafael hung up the phone. He hadn’t finished looking up from pressing the “end call” button when Ed Pastrino appeared before him, directly blocking Rafael’s path.

“Mr. Barba.”

“Mr. Pastrino,” Rafael replied with a sigh.

“Got a minute?” the sleazy lawyer asked.

“Uh, no not really. I’m heading to a motions hearing.” Rafael didn’t let down his confident demeanor despite the rising panic and annoyance he felt. “Can you schedule an appointment?” Barba tried to shove past Pastrino, but was met by Union Rep. Tony Rodriguez blocking any escape. Rodriguez towered over Rafael. His over-sized suit made him look more like mobster than a Union Rep.

“This won’t take long,” Pastrino asserted, closing Barba in between him and Rodriguez.

Rafael sighs again. He has no time nor patience for this. “So, is your client ready to plead guilty?”

“Let’s be realistic here. You don’t want to take a corrections officer to court,” Tony said, looming over Barba. His demeanor was threatening and his cadence thick with faux friendliness. “You don’t want to put yourself through that.”

Barba glared up, his brow furrowed, adrenaline pumping through his body. “I hope that’s not a threat.”

Tony continued, “It's a reality. My guys already feel like they're under attack. Tell you what. Two counts, criminal sexual act, in the third. These women are just convicts. They probably won’t even testify.”

Absurd. Barba scoffs and retorts, “So your guys does, what, a year and a half? Thanks for the advice. Your guy's doing hard time, and then he's going on the registry. It's over.”

Rafael escaped the containment of the two men and quickly walked away. It wasn’t until he was out of sight of them that he realized he was holding his breath.

***

As you waited impatiently for Lisa Munson and her children to appear through that door, time was crawling by. Five minutes turned into ten. Into fifteen. Into twenty.

The blinds were closed, no one came out the door; it was eerily still. You had no idea what was going on in that house.

You hold your phone in your hand, praying you don’t have to call for backup.

Suddenly, the front door opened and the two Munson children emerged with Olivia close behind. She glanced back at Dodds, who gave a quick nod and Liv shut the door behind her. She hauled two bags, the kids’, over to the car.

You popped the trunk, and got out to help the kids. Olivia introduced them as Annie and Tommy as you got them situated in the back seat.

“You were in there for a while, how is Lisa?” you quietly asked Liv.

“Munson certainly knew what was happening. He pressured her to tell us to leave,” she replied.

“Olivia, where is mommy?” Annie asked sweetly.

“I’m going to get her right now, okay?” Olivia replied, matching Annie’s sweet tone.

“I’ve got the kids,” you assured her. “Go get Lisa out of there.”

Liv nodded and headed back to the front door.

You heard the short metallic sounds of the door handle jiggling back and forth and looked up. Liv met your gaze and shook her head. The door was locked.

***

Rafael unlocked his phone as he entered the courthouse elevator. He was thinking about texting you. After your fight, he wasn’t sure what to say.

He thought about telling you that you were being irrational.

He thought about telling you he was sorry.

He thought about telling you that your squad really needed to be sure those inmates would testify. If they didn’t, not only could Munson walk free, but Rafael’s career might be on the line.

The elevator doors began to close, and a figure in dark clothes slipped in at the last second. Rafael looked up from his phone and his heart stopped. It was the same man who threatened him on the courthouse stairs.

“Abogado, a second later I would’ve missed you.” The man stood far too close for comfort.

Rafael’s eyes flitted to the alarm button, but his could-be assailant blocked any escape.

He leaned in even closer to Rafael and said darkly, “That alarm’s not going to help you.”

Barba could feel the man’s breath on his face. “What do you want? Who sent you?” His mind raced. He could barely form a thought. There was no plan of escape. Was he going to be killed right here?

“Well, that's the thing, huh, friend? You've made so many enemies, you have no way of knowing, do you? Same way you won't hear the bullet that's coming for you,” he raised his pointer finger and thumb up, a mock gun, and pressed it over Rafael’s heart.

Ding

The elevator doors opened, and the man rushed out, pushing roughly through anyone in his way.

Miraculously, two courthouse security officers were entering the elevator and Rafael found the ability to act swiftly. He pushed the alarm, and grabbed the arm of the nearest officer, “I’m a New York DA. That man just threatened me.” He pointed to the quickly retreating figured in dark clothes. “Shut down the building and get that security footage.”

The officers raced after the man, pushing through the small crowd of people in the hallway.

Rafael tried desperately to catch his breath. He hadn’t been lying before when he said it isn’t uncommon for DAs to get threats, but this level of threat was new. New and terrifying.

And now that it’s over his first thoughts were about you. Any inkling of calling you irrational was immediately buried. If something had happened to him, your last conversation would’ve been a fight. A stupid fight.

He unlocked his phone again and found you in his contacts.


	3. Chapter 3

Incoming call from Rafael Barba.

You declined the call and looked back to Olivia at the Munson’s front door.

She knocked a couple more times and tried the handle again. No give.

You look back at the two sweet kids in the back seat and give them your best reassuring smile. “Stay here, I’m going to go help Olivia and we’re going to bring your mom out okay? Stay buckled in.”

You close the drivers side door quietly behind you and move one hand the gun at your waist.

“Mr. Munson, your children are wondering when their mother is going to come out,” Olivia yelled through the front door.

You couldn’t make out the muffled reply from your position in the driveway. Liv glanced your way and jerked her head to the side, beckoning for you to approach the house.

She leaned toward the door and yelled in again, “How about we stop shouting through the door and I’m going to call you alright?”

You felt your phone buzz once in your pocket. You hoped that it was Rafael texting you after you didn’t answer. That would be a good sign; it would mean he’s probably not mad at you. Or dead on the courthouse stairs.

You listened hard as you stood below the elevated front room window of the Munson house.

Liv took out her phone and dialed. You could hear faint ringing for a second before someone answered. You guessed she called Dodds. “Mr. Munson, we all want the same thing,” Liv started.

You could hear a muffled response, this time through the window, but you couldn’t make out the words. Catching Benson’s attention, you gestured toward the window, indicating they were in the front room. She nodded and motioned to you again. Understanding, you made your way along the side of the house to look for another way in.

“Mr. Munson, I need for you to let my Sergeant and your wife out of the house please,” she continued.

The side door was also locked, the garage was detached, and there wasn’t a separate basement entrance. There was no other way in.

From this side of the house, Liv’s voice was quieter but still clear. “Dodds, are you and Lisa okay?”

You slowly returned to Liv’s line of sight and shook your head to tell her there were no other viable entrances.

“Yes, exactly like- like a family member or his union rep.”

You returned to check on the kids in the car. These poor kids. Other than concern written on their faces, they seemed calm enough.

“Mr. Munson, I’m listening to you.” Liv kept her voice so even. So calm. You were always so impressed the way she handled herself in emergencies. You knew that you weren’t as good at keeping your emotions or your expressions in check.

Rafael once remarked that that was something he liked about you. That you wear your heart on your sleeve.

“Now, what I need you to do-” Liv sighs heavily and lowers her phone from her face. “They hung up.”

***

“That’s the guy,” Barba confirmed to Rollins. They stood at the precinct, watching the security footage from the courthouse earlier. Rafael’s throat clenched even looking at the footage of himself and his almost assailant in that elevator. The man had evaded capture. He felt like a helpless idiot.

“Okay,” Rollins continued. “You said he threatened you twice? When was the first time?”

“At Munson’s first indictments. He told me he could push me down the courthouse stairs and crack my skull open.” He tried to sound as though that didn’t bother him.

“Why didn’t you tell us about this?” Amanda asked. Her face reminded Rafael of yours earlier, when you asked him nearly the same thing.

“Liv knows. I’ve been getting threats all year, though nothing like this. Frankly I didn’t take them very seriously,” he said.

Amanda looked shocked. “All year? So this might not even have anything to do with Rikers.”

“Speaking of Rikers, where is the rest of your squad? I heard that New York’s finest union pulled through on Munson’s bail already,” Raf said, not hiding his disgust. “I called earlier and got declined.”

“Fin went home. The rest are actually at Munson’s right now doing a clothes job.”

“His wife is actually leaving him? I’m surprised. She didn’t seem the type.”

Amanda chuckled softly. “Well I’m guessing Liv got to her.”

“How long have they been there?” he asked, feigning nonchalance.

“Barba,” Amanda looked at him, amused. “Are you worried? They’re fine. Dodds left his own goodbye party to go with, and Liv has done these before. They’re probably already on their way back.”

She put her tablet down and started walking to her desk. “We’re running facial recognition on the video and I’m calling Intel to get you a security detail.”

Rafael stopped and looked at her. “Is there someone there you trust?”

She cocked her head to the side, looking puzzled.

“The threats I was getting before these lovely in-person conversations were mostly hang ups from burner cells, some texts,” he lowered his voice slightly. “I started getting them after I indicted the three cops who shot Terrance Reynolds.”

“I’m calling Benson.”

***

ESU arrived to secure the scene at the Munson house and a hostage negotiator was on the way. Chief Dodds rushed up to Lieutenant Benson, sparing no niceties. “What the hell is going on? Is Mike okay?”

Liv put her hands up in an effort to placate him, “He’s inside. So far he’s- He’s unhurt. We were doing a clothes job, I took the kids out to the car and I think he pulled a gun.”

You felt the heat rise to your face at the mention of the gun. You were the one that trusted the word of a traumatized victim. Why would she be able to conduct a police-level search for weapons? You were the one that told Liv and Mike that he wouldn’t be armed.

Chief Dodds looked livid. “You- you what? You didn’t search him?”

“His wife told us she searched the house and there were absolutely no weapons,” Liv said, her voice softer than usual.

She didn’t make any mention that you were the one who took Lisa’s word for it. You’d have to thank Liv for that later. And apologize profusely.

Liv continued to update Dodds on the situation as Deputy Inspector Bob O’Brien, Lisa Munson’s father, arrive on the scene.

You took this moment to step away and pull out your phone. Two missed calls from Barba, and one text that read, We need to talk.

You hit Barba’s contact and raised your phone to your ear.

“Hey,” he answered. You let out a sigh of relief at the sound of his voice. It suddenly felt easier to breathe and some of the tension in your shoulders was released.

“Are you okay?” you both asked at the same time.

“I’m fine Raf. The situation here isn’t great. Munson is holding his wife and Sargent Dodds and hostage in their house. We got their kids out, Liv is okay, but they’ve been in there for a long time.” The tension returned to your shoulders. “I’m sorry I declined your call earlier, we couldn’t get into the house, I-” you paused. “We think Munson has a gun.”

You could feel the pressure weighing on you and all the emotions you’d been containing begin to break loose. Tears were stinging in your eyes and your voice was no more than a whisper as you said, “I’m so sorry I didn’t answer your call. I’m sorry any of this is happening.”

“Hey, hey, no, it’s not your fault.” Rafael’s voice was soft and reassuring. “You’re just doing your job, don’t worry about it.”

“No!” you cried back. “I wasn’t doing my job. I- I told Liv and Dodds that there wouldn’t be a gun.” Tears were streaming down your face now. “Mrs. Munson said there weren’t any guns and now-” a sob escaped your lips. You didn’t finish your sentence.

“You see the best in the people. That isn’t a fault. It wasn’t your sole responsibility, cariño.”

You took several deep breaths before you were able to say anything. “I have to go Raf. We can talk later okay?”

“Of course. Go do your job. I’ll see you later,” he said tenderly. “And be careful. With all the indictments, Munson probably isn’t looking to negotiate out of this.”


	4. Chapter 4

The sound of sirens barely even registered in your mind and then soon faded away altogether as the ambulance turned a corner and zoomed away. Your body gently rocked back and forth with the movement of the squad car, speeding toward Lincoln Hospital. It felt like the seat belt was the only thing holding up your exhausted body.

You stared down at your hands in your lap. You knew they were yours, but they didn’t look like your hands. Thin fingers, a few callouses. Short, but unkempt nails. That seemed correct. But these hands were red with blood.

One shot had rung out before you and Liv rushed into the house with ESU. Munson was immediately disarmed, arrested, and his wife taken out to safety. You rushed to Mike and saw him there on the floor, pale as a sheet, covered in blood. Hands pressed to the gunshot wound in his abdomen, you vaguely remember telling him he was going to be okay.

He muttered something about trying to take the gun, about it accidentally going off. It didn’t matter. In your mind, Munson was wholly responsible.

The images of the moment continually played out vividly in your head. You remembered Mike lying on the floor of the Munson house and then on the gurney, his father looking more shaken than you ever imagined he could. It was a miracle Mike was still alive.

A brief, dark thought crossed your mind as well.  _ At least Munson will be easy to prosecute now. Ha. I sound like Rafael. _

Oh! Rafael.

You fumbled for your phone in your pocket before you remembered your hands were covered in blood. _ Shit. _

“How far are we from the hospital?” You asked the officer who was driving.

“We’re almost there, Detective.”

***

You were one of the first to arrive at the hospital along with Chief Dodds, Liv and a handful of other cops who were on the scene. Carisi, Rollins and Fin arrived not a minute later.

Still in shock, you barely felt your own body rush into the waiting room.

Chief Dodds reemerged from the hall leading to the Surgery ward and ICU.

“How is he?” Fin asked.

Dodds was wiping his hands on paper towel, but his shirt was still covered in splotches of his son’s blood. He looked haggard to say the least. “He- well, he got shot in the abdomen. The bullet hit an artery. He’s a fighter. I told him that,” he said, looking at no one in particular. “He lost a lot of blood.”

“What can we do?” Rollins asked.

“He’s B negative. Highway’s been dispatched to the blood bank, but they’re going through what they have fast.”

Carisi immediately started rolling up his left sleeve. “I’m O negative, that works. Where do I go?”

“This way, down the hall,” and Dodds guided Sonny away.

Now there wasn’t nothing left to do but wait.

The others moved to sit or grab a coffee and you took the opportunity to pull Liv aside. “Lieutenant. I-” you had breathe deeply before you could continue. “Olivia, I’m so sorry,” you managed to say in a whisper.

“No,” she said firmly. “We didn’t search Munson. I left Dodds in there, this is on me,” she said. Her tone matched yours and you realized that she felt just as guilty as you did. It didn’t make you feel any better.

You retreated to the nearest bathroom to wash your hands and collect yourself. Mike’s blood flowed down the cold porcelain and into the drain, but the guilt didn’t go with it. You stood for a long moment, letting the water run, hands grasping the edge of the sink because you felt your knees might give out at any time.

After regaining some composure and joining your squad in the waiting room, you texted Rafael to let him know what had happened. He arrived at the hospital half an hour later.

You told him specifically not to come to the hospital because it might look suspicious if he came there just for you. Rafael insisted that his presence wouldn’t be odd, and he would be sure to pay you no special attention. Which, at the moment felt like shit, even if it was necessary.

“Barba,” Rollins noticed him first once he arrived in the waiting room. “Are you alright? Sorry we didn’t get you a security detail earlier.”

“No, that’s alright. I’m fine,” he insisted. “I’m here for moral support. I don’t need a babysitter, you all have a lot to deal with right now. How’s Sergeant Dodds?”

Carisi reappeared, a piece of gauze taped to the crook of his elbow. “He’s still in surgery last we heard. Chief Dodds said he lost a lot of blood,” he said as he rolled his sleeve down.

“Last day at SVU and he catches a bullet,” Amanda said woefully.

“He’s a tough dude, he’ll be okay. He bounced back from the last one,” Fin said and returned his cup of coffee to his mouth.

“The bullet hit an artery Fin,” you said, walking up between Amanda and Rafael.

“I’m just saying,” Fin retorted, and sauntered to one of the waiting room chairs.

“I’m going to find the vending machine, anyone need anything?” you asked.

Everyone refused, then Barba added, “I’ll join you, I could use a coffee.” You walked down the hall a bit and rounded the corner into the alcove with the vending machine. As soon as you confirmed that both the hall and alcove were empty you rushed into Rafael’s arms.

He let out a small grunt as the force of your hug hit him, but he relaxed into it and wrapped his arms around you. One hand gently stroked your hair, the other rested on the middle of your back. You buried your face in his shoulder and held him like you might never get to hold him again.

Not willing to risk being seen, you both broke apart too soon. Rafael gently squeezed your hand before letting go of you completely.

Rafael noticed the patches of dried blood on your sleeves. “How are you doing?” He asked.

“I’m fine,” was all you offered.

He tilted his head forward and gave you a look that said,  _ I know you’re not fine. _

“Why did Rollins say you needed a security detail? Did you ask her to investigate whoever threatened you?” you asked.

“The same man cornered me in an elevator today and threatened to shoot me this time,” he told you bluntly.

“Oh my God, Raf, he had a gun on you?” your voice raising more than you intended.

“No, no! He said I wouldn’t see a bullet coming and then hightailed out immediately after the elevator stopped. Your squad has the security footage, I have no doubt they’ll find him.” He looked you in the eyes, his gaze reassuring. “Looking back it seems like an empty threat. If anyone wanted me dead, they could’ve done it already,” he remarked, instantly regretting his word choice when he saw the look on your face.

“I just mean,” he continued, “that I don’t think the threats are credible.”

“What if they are, Rafael?” you asked, exasperated. You ran your hands down your face as you leaned back against the wall opposite the snack machine.

“Once you find out who is making these threats, you can make an arrest. It will be fine.” He sounded so confident.

“You can’t be so sure. Please, Raf, just be careful. You know that I care-” you stopped abruptly as a uniformed officer rounded the corner and began shoving a crumpled dollar bill in the coffee machine.

Rafael looked mildly uncomfortable at the intrusion, but continued in a professional tone, “I know you care about the case,” his eyes glanced at the officer as the coffee machine spit out bland, burned coffee into a tiny foam cup, “and I’ll do my best to prosecute those responsible. We’ll have sufficient evidence, I think the jury will be very responsive.”

Coffee in hand, the officer retreated back down the hall without so much as a second glance.

“How is it you’re so smooth under pressure?” you asked him, the smallest trace of a smirk on your lips. “Maybe you should be a detective.”

“In a courtroom, with a well-formed case on the table I’m great,” he said. “You should’ve seen me in that elevator. I’m sure you’ll watch the footage later. My heart stopped, I felt like I couldn’t breathe,” He took a deep breath now as if to make up for the suffocating panic he endured earlier.

“I know exactly how that feels,” you said.

“After it happened, once he left. I still couldn’t breathe. I just kept thinking-” his tongue briefly licked his upper lip while he considered his next words. “I kept thinking about you. I didn’t know what do. All I could imagine was if I had been shot that the last conversation we had was that fight at the courthouse.”

“Rafael,” you breathed.

“Hey!,” Amanda jogged down the hall, apparently looking for you and Barba. “Mike is out of surgery and is recovering in the ICU.”

“What’s his condition?” you asked, instinctively taking a step away from Rafael to quash any suspicion. Would Amanda notice that neither of you had grabbed coffee?

“It was touch-and-go, but Fin was right. It seems like he’ll bounce back,” she said.

Relief flooded your body. “Thanks.” You and Amanda nodded at each other and she returned to the waiting room.

Rafael turned back to you, a knowing look on his face. “This wasn’t your fault.”

“Well, I’ll feel even better once Mike makes a full recovery. And,” you said, looking at him directly, “Once  _ you _ agree to a security detail, and we catch the bastard that’s threatening you.”

Rafael sighed, and raised his eyes to the ceiling. “You aren’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer are you?”

“All I know is that you’re smarter than this, and the people of New York need you alive,” you retorted, appealing to his ego.

“Oh, you’re going to fight dirty now?” he asked playfully.

“And I need you alive,” you said a little softer.

Raf glanced down the hall and upon seeing it empty again, he grabbed your hand once more. “I will agree to  _ one _ officer outside my office during the day. And  _ you _ can keep me company at night,” he said, leaning dangerously close to you.

He looked at you with hunger in his eyes; the look set your veins on fire. “Now that,” you said, “sounds like a very smart arrangement indeed.”

***

Hours passed as everyone lingered in the waiting room, hoping for better news, dreading the worst. The energies ranged from over-caffeinated anxiety, to post-shock exhaustion. You were feeling somewhere in between. Your body was so tired it felt like you could sleep forever. You also couldn’t bear to close your eyes, because the images of Mike, shot and bloodied, kept flashing over the dark behind your eye lids.

Rafael sat across the small waiting room from you. You could feel every inch of distance between you, and you longed to close the gap and crawl into his arms. You didn’t dare make eye contact, lest your emotions show too obviously on your face.

Fin lounged back with a double seat to himself. Carisi was close by, leaning forward on his thighs, his gaze as empty as his coffee cup. Amanda sat next to Barba, crossed legs allowing her foot to trace nervous shapes in the air.

Liv and Chief Dodds had disappeared down the hall a long while ago to see Mike. He was drifting in and out of consciousness as the anesthesia wore off.

The seconds and minutes slipped by and the small spark of hope that Mike would be okay had dared to keep growing in your chest.

That bit of light you tenderly kept locked away in your heart was shattered into a million pieces the second you saw Liv’s face as she walked back into the waiting room. The next few moments moved in slow motion, as the slow understanding spread to every person in that room.

You watched Liv’s mouth move, but you couldn’t process a single word she said. You felt a hand move to your shoulder in comfort, but you had no idea who’s it was. Only one thought was filling all the space in your head.

Mike Dodds was dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We all know what happened to poor Mike Dodds but that doesn't make it any less sad does it :(


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is some nice fluff before all hell breaks loose. Enjoy <3

The funeral was difficult, of course, but nice.

Later, it felt like every cop in the city crowded in the same small bar to both mourn and celebrate Dodd’s life.

“Amanda told me they found out who was harassing you,” you approached Barba, who was sitting at the corner of the bar. It had been easy to find him as he was sticking out like a well-dressed ship in the sea of blue uniforms. “We haven’t arrested him yet, but they have units sitting on his block. They’ll get him soon.”

You slipped onto the bar stool next to him, draping your jacket on the back.

“I’m not worried. Not in here,” he said with a smirk. “To Dodds.” He raised his glass of scotch to your beer bottle and looked into your eyes. “Will I see you later tonight?” he asked.

“Raf,” you said, lowering your voice conspiratorially. “You’re going to ask me that here in front of every cop in New York?” You glanced over to the nearest group of off duty cops, who you hoped were just out of earshot.

He just smiled, drained the rest of his scotch and returned the tumbler to the bar. “Escort me home, Detective?”

“Let me say goodbye to Benson and Dodds at least,” you said, grabbing the jacket of your dress blues from the back of the bar stool. You scanned the room and found Liv and Chief Dodds together at a table across from the bar.

“Lieutenant,” you started. She looked up at you, her eyes watery. Had they been talking about Mike? “I’m heading out,” you continue. “Barba is ready to leave too so I offered to drive him home, you know with- with the threats...” you trailed off.

“That’s very kind of you,” Liv said, her eyes boring into you. “I’ll see you on Monday then.”

“Chief Dodds,” you hesitated. “I’m so sorry.”  _ For causing your son’s death. _

__

His thick brows furrowed as he looked directly at you. You swore there was rage behind his eyes. “Have a good night, Detective,” and he looked away from you.

You turned to find Barba waiting by the door and made a quick exit, keeping your head down to hide the tears that were welling in your eyes.

***

You knew it did not escape Rafael’s notice that you parked on the street outside his apartment rather than just pulled over. You were intending to stay and he knew.

You turned the car off and looked over at Raf when he didn’t move to get out. “Are you going to invite me up, or do you want me to run security from outside your place?” you asked with a smirk.

“Oh no, I think you’ll be much more effective from inside my apartment,” he said, “for security purposes, of course.” His eyes shined mischievously. Arousal clenched the center of your stomach.

“Good. Because I need to drown my feelings in some scotch, I know you, Rafael Barba, keep enough in your apartment to warrant a fire hazard.”

Safely inside his expensive New York apartment, Raf handed you a tumbler with two fingers of scotch. You downed it in one, relishing the painful burning sensation that flooded your core. It was not un-similar to the grief that had constricted your stomach all day, but the feeling’s physical nature was a welcome change.

Rafael didn’t look surprised, but he did look concerned and a little lost. “How can I help? If you need to- to talk...”

He gently approached you, his own tumbler of scotch in one hand. With his other hand, he caressed the side of your face, moving your chin up until your eyes met his.

His offer was sweet. You could see that he cared, but that he genuinely didn’t know what to do. He spent plenty of time with SVU, but his area of expertise was persuading a jury, not managing trauma.

“I need more scotch,” you said, lifting your emptied glass and gazing up into his gorgeous eyes, “and I really,  _ really,  _ need a distraction.”

He took your glass and poured you another, this one less than the first. “Don’t hold out on me now Rafael.” He continued pouring, too smart to protest. As a compromise you sipped at the drink this time.

Leaning back against the counter, you let out a sigh and leaned your head back until it hit the cabinet behind you with a soft thud.

Raf leaned on the counter opposite you, not too far away in his narrow kitchen. “Alright, drink in hand. What kind of a distraction are you after?”

You sipped again, considering your options. The warmth of the alcohol crept though your veins and up into the back of your head, slowly dampening the guilt, grief, regret that were saturating your brain. “When’s the last time you used your Jacuzzi?”

An apartment with a small kitchen, but a large Jacuzzi tub. It’s like it was built for Rafael.

“I don’t use it that often, but I’ll get it started for you.”

“Oh please,” you started, as he headed toward the bathroom. “I know you soak in that tub at least once a week, drinking champagne and listening to show tunes.” He chuckled but didn’t deny it. “Now, where is the bubble bath?”

“Hallway closet,” he answered from the bathroom.

You heard the water pouring out of the faucet as you undressed in Raf’s bedroom. The thick wool of your uniform fell to the floor, taking some of the heavy responsibility you felt with it.  _ You’re off duty, you can relax now,  _ you tried to convince yourself. You took the robe from the hook next to the bathroom door and tied it loosely around your waist.

After a quick detour to retrieve your drink and grab the tall pink bottle of bubble bath from the closet, you gently pushed open the bathroom door.

Rafael sat on the edge of the tub, feeling the water with his fingertips. The sleeves of his pale blue dress shirt were rolled to his elbows and his tie hung loosely around his neck. You drank the sight of him in.

“That robe looks familiar,” he remarked, taking the bottle from you and pouring a healthy amount into the steaming water. Soft pink bubbles began sprouting up immediately forming into swirling groups of foam. The smell of lavender joined the rising steam that crept through the air to the edges of the mirror.

“Thank you, Raf,” you said, ignoring his comment about his robe.

He turned the water off and placed a towel on the bar next to the tub. “It’s all yours, cariño.” He kissed you sweetly, and started to walk out.

“Whoa, where are you going?” You lightly grabbed his wrist as he passed you. He took a few steps back into the room, looking surprised, but pleased. “I want you here with me,” you whispered and drew him close to you.

The kiss was soft and tender. You both tasted like scotch. Rafael’s eyelids fluttered as the kiss deepened. The furrow of his brow relaxed, and his features softened. You loved this about him; the way his hard, composed demeanor just melted away for you.

“I’m here,” he whispered back.

You slipped a finger into the space between his collar and tie and pulled until the silk knot came loose. He watched you through half-lidded eyes, as your steady hands discarded each item of clothing one by one until he stood before you completely naked. He didn’t once consider the inevitable wrinkles in the dress clothes lying on the floor. He had more important things on his mind.

Not a word was spoken between you as he pulled at the belt on his robe that you were playfully wearing. It, too, fell to the ground. He held your hand to keep you steady as you stepped into the tub. Then he joined you himself, sitting opposite you in the two-person Jacuzzi. Your legs brushed up against his as you both shifted to get comfortable.

The water was hot, but not unbearable. You hadn’t realized just how tight all your muscles were until you felt them begin to relax. You leaned back and rested your head against the edge of the tub, your body submerged to the neck and surrounded by peaks of foam.

“This is perfect,” you sighed softly, and affectionately rubbed your foot against the outside of Rafael’s upper thigh. You felt his thumb gently rub your ankle in reply. The horrible bloody visions stayed away this time when you allowed your eyes to stay shut completely.

A few minutes passed and you thought you might drift to sleep when you felt your partner sit up, the bubbly surface of the water drawing wavy lines across your chest from shoulder to shoulder.

“Come here,” Raf said.

You begrudgingly opened your eyes and sat forward as well. An inquisitive expression crossed your face as Rafael gently said, “turn around.” You obeyed, repositioning yourself between his knees, your hips sandwiched between his thighs.

His warm wet hands rose out of the water and gently stroked your half-wet hair. Then they moved to your neck and upper back, strong and reassuring as he began to massage any remaining tension out of your sore muscles. The heat of his touch left burning traces on your skin. A shiver rose from the base of your spine to the crown of your head, followed by an eruption of goosebumps.

Though you had spent quite a few nights together, this moment felt more intimate than anything the two of you had experienced together before. You let out a soft moan, a sign of contented appreciation.

When you’d had enough of his ministrations, you leaned backward until your back was flush with his chest and stomach. Feeling Rafael’s heart beat against you was better medicine to numb your pain than all the scotch in his apartment. His arms curled around your shoulders, holding you close.

“I’m sorry,” you felt his warm breath at your ear. His voice was soft and sincere.

“Sorry for what, Rafi? This is the perfect distraction,” you told him reassuringly, nuzzling your head into his shoulder.

“No, no,” he said. “For not telling you about the threats I’d been getting.”

A small knot formed in the core of your stomach. You realized that he waited to apologize until you weren’t facing him. You couldn’t decide whether to be annoyed by that or not.

His words flowed quickly and sounded half-rehearsed, “I didn’t want you to worry. In my head it wasn’t even worth worrying about. I- I couldn’t let myself think about it because-” he paused suddenly.

“Because that made it real,” you finished for him. He waited for your reaction.

You took a moment to absorb the words he said and the ones he didn’t. Any anger that was building in you fell away. Though you weren’t looking at Rafael, you saw him. You saw the defenses he kept against the world. His ego, his intelligence, putting others down and pushing them away.

You then glanced at the pile of his clothes discarded on the floor and then turned to face him. He looked expectant, like you might yell at him. Or leave him right there.

You imagined his expensive suits, the dress clothes that you discarded to the floor minutes ago, as armor. And here he was, Rafael Barba, bare before you.

_ The same armor that keeps things out can also suffocate you. _

His apology had been honest so you paid him with honesty in return. “I was just so scared.” And those words were enough to open the floodgates that you had so carefully kept closed all day. The tightness in your throat burned as your tears temporarily blurred your vision.

Brief shock passed across Rafael’s face. He  _ had _ expected you to be angry. He moved a hand to your shoulder, trying to calm the panic now bubbling up inside you again. “It’s okay. I’m here, I’m fine.” He pressed his forehead to yours.

Between sobs you managed to choke out, “I’m just- I’m happy you’re safe.”

Once you could catch your breath, you begin to move your hands to your face to wipe away the tears, but you quickly remembered you’re in the bath. Rafael reached for a towel and handed it you.

“Oh my hands are so prune-y,” you said, wiping your face on the towel.

“I have a cozy bed waiting and I’ll even let you wear one of few t-shirts I actually own. That is,” he said, standing up, pulling you with him until your dripping, lavender-scented bodies were pressed close, “if you’ll stay the night?”

“I would love nothing more,” you kissed him sweetly and stepped out of the bath to dry off.

You didn’t bother to put your own clothes back on, but instead wore the pajamas that Rafael supplied since you didn’t have an overnight bag. You pulled on the soft cotton pants, pulling the string belt a bit tighter, and donned Rafael’s old, too-big Harvard t-shirt.

You splashed cold water on your face to calm your tired, tearful eyes. A few deep breaths later, your emotions were in check again.

Raf came back into the bedroom wearing similar pants, but didn’t bother with a shirt. You didn’t hide your gaze, as you looked him up and down, taking in the shape of his sturdy chest, his soft hips, and the thin trail of hair guiding your eyes to his waistline.

“Take a photo,” he joked, lightening your mood considerably. “Or I could commission a nude portrait, I know some spectacular artists.”

“Oh, I want to do more than just look,” you said, closing the distance between you so you could run your hands down his chest. He responded in turn by grabbing the extra fabric of his own t-shirt at your sides and pulled you even closer.

He pressed his lips to yours, sweetly at first, and then you urged him on by deepening the kiss. You parted his lips with your tongue, and ran your hands up around his neck and through his hair. All your worries left your head once again as you lost yourself in Rafael’s arms.

He moved his lips across your face to your neck, pressing his lips and tongue to the hollow below your jaw. You craned your neck to receive him, as he whispered, “I’m beginning to think that putting clothes on was unnecessary.”

“I think you might be right,” you agreed, moving a hand down his back, dipping your fingers just below the waistline of his pants to touch his pliant hips and ass. “At least I get to undress you again.”

Your kisses became more urgent. You needed to lose yourself in him, to outrun your fear and your guilt. His hands slipped up under the hem your shirt to feel the warm, soft skin of your back and hips. “I want you Rafael,” you whispered between kisses.

He suddenly lifted you off the ground, wrapping both your legs around his waist and carried you the few short steps to his king sized bed. Your bodies fell together onto the silk sheets, Rafael putting out one arm to slow your fall. You could feel the heat radiating off of him, as he held his form just above yours. He gave you a quick, voracious smile, and then began pulling the shirt over your head.

“I need you,” he said.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit gets real starting now. Enjoy!

The bliss of your combined pleasure was just beginning to fade. You rolled back toward Rafael, extricating your naked legs from the tangle of silk sheets. You placed a kiss at the crest of his shoulder, a futile grasp at the last of that post-orgasmic peace before the pressure of everything else crept back into your psyche.

A glance at his face showed you that he also hadn’t outrun his demons. The lean muscle of his arm, his hand tucked behind his head, framed his furrowed brow. His eyes were still open, staring forward at nothing in particular on the dark ceiling.

“What do you think it is about funerals that makes people want to have sex?” he asked.

You chuckled derisively. “Alcohol. Grief. The desire to feel alive...Love.” The last word was uttered sheepishly. Neither of you had yet admitted to loving each other.

_ Because that made it real.  _ Your own words echoed in your head from earlier. Maybe you both wore too much armor.

_ Love _ . It’s certainly what you felt for Rafael Barba. After pining from a distance for so long, you had never imagined an actual closeness with him. His superiority was like a weapon he wielded to keep everyone just close enough to worship him, but far enough away to prevent them from seeing the cracks in his façade.

Until he began to drop the façade and let you get closer.

Despite knowing it’s how you feel, you cannot bring yourself to say that you love him out loud.

You steal a glance at his face to gauge his reaction to the word. His face was uncharacteristically vulnerable. His green eyes boring into your soul, while revealing his own. They dared to convey the words that you yourself couldn’t utter.

Who were you to make Rafael Barba look like this? It was so satisfying and so terrifying at the same time.

You felt a responsibility to protect him. To keep him safe from anyone who would hurt him. Which right now is a very real threat. That’s your job isn’t it? To protect. To serve. You couldn’t protect Mike Dodds, but you’ll be damned if you can’t protect Rafael Barba.

“Raf, I-” your sentence halts in your chest, the rest of your words turning to dust.  _ Why can’t I say it.  _ The sound of your heartbeat floods your ears and the pressure becomes too much. “I think we should disclose our relationship.”  _ Why is that what I said? _

__

You swore a glimpse of disappointment flashed behind his eyes. You blinked and it was gone as was the hint of vulnerability.

“No,” he said. The word wasn’t harsh, but it nestled like a knife at the nape of your neck, threatening to bury itself in your spinal cord.

Your face must have betrayed you, because Raf quickly added, “Not yet, I mean. I’m serious about this. About us. But we can’t disclose yet; I started getting threats after the indictment of the cops who killed Terrence Reynolds.”

Those words weighed heavy in the air. “You think a cop was sending you threats? Raf, we tied Heredio to the BX9 gang. You got his brother sent to jail. I don’t think it’s a cop-” 

He interrupted you, pushing himself up into his elbow to face you while laying on his side. “I know.” His face softened again. “I  _ also _ know exactly how invasive it is to have this fear looming over every aspect of my life. I cannot expand the public sphere of my life to include you.”

The tightness at the base of your neck subsided, then moved to your stomach.

He ran a hand down your naked shoulder, “We disclose when you and the squad are sure the threats have stopped. Then we can deal with professional fallout that I’m sure will ensue.”

“Rafael Barba, willing to risk getting into trouble at the office? Who would’ve guessed?” you teased him, hoping he knew just how much you appreciated his concern for you.

“Oh, I’ve been in my fair share of sticky situations; I can usually talk my way out of them.”

“Were you always so charming and good with your tongue?” you smirked. His face showed he caught your double meaning.

“I’ve always been quite persuasive,” he conceded with a half-hearted smile.

He laid back onto his pillow again. He resumed his stare at the ceiling, but not before shifting his arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. You draped your body over his, your thigh on his thigh, your arm over his stomach, your head on his chest. His breathing was as steady as his heartbeat. It calmed your looming anxiety.

“Thank you, Raf,” you murmured. You felt his head shift and he planted a kiss on your head.

“You’re welcome. What are you thanking me for?” he asked.

“For letting me in.”

***

You rubbed your tongue on the back of your teeth, agitating the burn you self-inflicted after you drank your too-hot, crappy precinct coffee this morning.

The mood at the station had been even more dismal than usual in the weeks since Mike’s funeral. Today looked like no improvement. Your fellow Detectives were sitting at their respective desks, focused on their work. You strode over to your work space to set down your second cup of coffee to allow it to cool.

Your phone buzzed twice in your pocket signaling a text. You pulled it out and your heart stopped as you read the preview:

_ 11:24am _

_ from: Rafael Barba _

_ Looks like Heredio wasn’t my only problem. [image attached] _

Your thumb trembled as you unlocked your phone to open Rafael’s text. The attached image was a screenshot of his text app. It showed a message to Rafael from a “Private Number” which read:

__

_ you’d better hope your cop friends watch your back. 35 bullets won’t be enough for you. _

Before you could form a thought, Liv strode out of her office, phone in hand. “We have a problem.” The whole squad turned their full attention on her, yourself included. “Looks like Heredio was just a hired hand with a grudge. Barba just received a new threat.”

“Did someone else approach him?” Carisi asked, concern apparent in the center of his furrowed brow and his down-turned mouth.

“No, it was another text, probably from a burner cell,” Liv said, “but this one is more specific.” She read aloud the text from the screenshot Barba had just also sent you.

“35 bullets? That  _ is _ pretty specific,” Fin affirmed. “What are we looking at? TARU tracking the source?”

Liv nodded.

Rollins anxiously rubbed her forehead at the hairline, “With all the people Barba’s prosecuted he’s sure to have enemies. He didn’t even know where to begin looking when the threats first started.”

“Heredio still maintains that he doesn’t know who paid him to approach Barba?” Liv asked in general.

Carisi nodded his head, “No dice. He says the payments were cash and the requests were anonymous.”

“Ask him again,” Liv told Carisi. “And take Rollins with you.” Carisi grabbed his jacket.

_ When the threats first started.  _ Rollins words echoed in your mind.

“Terrence Reynolds,” you muttered, your eyes darting around as if you could see your racing thoughts floating in front of you. Carisi and Amanda paused.

Your squad looked at you with questioning glances. After a beat, Liv understood. She closed her eyes and sighed softly.

“Terrence Reynolds?” Carisi repeated as a question.

Amanda caught on too. She lowered her voice and took a step forward to close the distance between everyone. “Barba said he started getting threats after he indicted the cops on the Terrence Reynolds case.”

If everyone’s expressions weren’t serious before, they were now.

_ 35 bullets won’t be enough for you. _

“35 bullets,” you said. “35 shots were fired at Reynolds.”

“So we might be dealing with a cop after all,” Liv confirmed, looking at each of you in turn.


	7. Chapter 7

This case was tricky to navigate, not just because your secret relationship with Rafael made it incredibly personal. When your suspect is a cop that you don’t have any real leads on, you risk the attention and ostracization of everyone you might need to work with.

Until the identity of your suspect was more solid, Liv decided not to report to IAB. If whoever was threatening Barba was a high level figure in the NYPD, you couldn’t tread carefully enough.

_ No leads on the text. _

You stared at the glow of your phone screen. At the bad, but not surprising update you sent to Rafael. You rubbed your burning eyes. Sleep had not found you these past nights. Barba was still assigned a security detail, but each time you imagined them standing outside his apartment, you could only see a dark shadowy figure in uniform, their police badge glinting like a knife.

After a moment of inaction from your phone you locked the screen and resigned yourself to the fact that Barba was busy, as he often was. You had to convince yourself that when he didn’t reply to you right away it’s because he’s busy  _ not _ because he’s in trouble.

Amanda approached your desk, her expression glum.  _ More bad news?  _ The thought was almost unbearable to you.

You let out a brief sigh and asked with disdain, “What fresh terrors complicate our investigation today?”

She knew better than give in to your sour mood, despite the fact that she did indeed have bad news. “Carisi and I re-interviewed the cops from the Reynolds case. Doom, Campesi, and Donlan are all sticking to their story that they aren’t responsible for any threats and they have no idea who might be sending the texts.”

“Of course they are,” you muttered under your breath. You stood from your desk chair, “So, we interview their friends and family, their colleagues especially. Someone has to have a grudge against Barba for something. I’ve been looking through other cases of his, but I haven’t found anyone with a connection to those three.”

Amanda looked hesitant, and somewhat annoyed. You were in no position to give orders. She looked at you, but didn’t say anything.

You felt an anger bubble up from the pit of your stomach. This process was so asinine, why weren’t you getting anywhere? Someone needs to get  _ somewhere.  _ “Well?” you snapped at her.

Before she could answer, Liv strode out of her office, looking downright angry. A look she directed toward you as she ordered, “Detective. My office.  _ Now _ .”

You shot Rollins a frustrated look as your body walked on autopilot toward Liv’s office. Olivia shut the door behind you as you entered. She turned to face you, her expression downright scary. “Is there anything you need to tell me?”

You stood with your arms crossed, facing your Lieutenant. You imagined that you looked like a petulant child who got in trouble for picking on a sibling.

“I’m just frustrated,” you began to explain your mood and why you had snapped at Rollins. “This case feels like it’s going nowhere, we might have a dirty cop, and-” 

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” she interrupts.

You pause, a bit confused.

In response, she strides past you to her desk where she picks up a manila envelope. She hands it to your wordlessly. Expectantly.

You held no expectations as you took the envelope in your hands. It wasn’t thick, it felt like there were maybe a few pages inside. You flipped the already released flap on the end and dug your fingers in until you found purchase on a short stack of pages inside.

As you pulled them out, you realized the envelope contained large printed photos. You slid the glossy pages out completely and a jolt of panic electrified your system.

The top photo in the stack consumed your field of vision. It held the view of a third floor apartment from the outside. A fire escape on a brick building, a large window, and half-drawn curtains. It looked like a paparazzi photo only the subjects weren’t celebrities.

It was you and Rafael.

You didn’t look up at Liv, but you could feel her gaze examining every micro expression that twitched on your face. You didn’t try to hide anything. It was too late for that.

The photos were high quality, taken with a telephoto lens, probably from the street outside Rafael’s apartment. You tried to place the evening in your mind, but the fear and frustration coursing through your nervous system created a haze you couldn’t overcome.

Flipping through the rest of the photos it seemed there were about 10 in total, all of them similar, but from three different days judging by changes in light and Rafael’s clothes. Only two of them contained you, both from the same night.

Both just had a half view of you from the back; it could be any woman in a business suit. The first showed you and Raf standing, having a conversation.

The other, however, showed Rafael facing forward and you with your back to the camera. The two of you were standing just outside his kitchenette, close enough to the window to show your figures from the waist up. He had his arms around your waist and back, and yours were up behind his neck. You held each other close, it looks like you might have even been dancing, except you know you’ve never done that.

You suddenly remembered this evening. It was three or four days ago, the only time you had been to Raf’s place since the night of the funeral. The photo captured the night before he received the newest text threatening him with 35 bullets. 

The playful conversation you had been having flitted through your mind. An innocent conversation while some sick bastard invaded your privacy.

_ “There was a study, expensive wine is barely better than the cheap stuff!” you insisted. _

__

_ “That cannot be true,” Rafael retorted, with an exasperated smile. “The three dollar bottles of wine you love simply cannot be as good as a high end vintage!” _

__

_ “Okay, okay, we will conduct a two person study!” you stopped him as you were both entering the kitchen to retrieve said cheap wine, and you wrapped your arms up around his neck. “You can pay for your expensive bottle and I will pay for mine,” you said with mock innocence, like this was a perfectly equal solution. _

__

_ He laughed at the absurdity of your suggestion. “I’m not sure that seems fair,” he retorted. _

The recent memory grew bitter and was now tinged with new regrets.  _ Why were the curtains open? Why did we stop in front of the window? _

Liv finally interrupted your reverie. “When were you going to disclose this to 1PP? Or me, at the very least?”

You didn’t even hear her question at first, you just responded angrily with the first words that were pouring out of your mouth, “Who was on duty as his security detail? How did they miss this?”

“Detective,” her sharp tone cleared a bit of the fog from your mind.

The boiling rage in your belly lowered to a simmer, replaced by rising fear. You still didn’t answer her question. “Does Rafael know about this? Is he safe?” You looked in her eyes, deadly serious.

“Yes, he’s in his office, the security detail is still outside.” You scoffed lightly at mention of what you now considered to be a nearly pointless babysitter. She continued, “He received the photos today, as did I. Those are copies,” she gestures to the photos in your hand. “The originals have been sent to the lab already.”

What were you supposed to say now?

“This woman could be anyone,” you remarked, not to hide from Liv, but to confirm that she might back you up if you needed to retain deniability.

She pointed to gestured to the photos, “Look at her waist.”

You found the one photo of you and Raf outside his kitchen and trained your vision on the curve of your hip framed by the bottom of the window. Because your arms were up around Raf’s neck, your jacked was pulled up, exposing a wedge of your tucked in dress shirt. There, clipped at the side of your hip was a glint of gold. Your badge.

_ Shit. _

Liv stood behind her desk; the barrier felt enormous between you. You felt like you were on the wrong end of a hostage negotiation. Raf was safe; she had just given you what you asked for and had the clear advantage. Now it was your turn to hold up your end of the bargain.

You chewed the inside of your cheek.

“We’ve only been seeing each other for a few months. We were going to disclose our relationship once we both agreed it was-” you weren’t sure how to finish. “-serious, I guess. Which, it is,” you added quickly, like it mattered. “Once I learned about the threats he was getting, we agreed to wait. We didn’t want it to interfere with the investigation.”  _ And Rafael didn’t want to put me in danger. _

You paused, unsure of how much to divulge. The look on Liv’s face was similar to how she looked at rape victims. Intense, caring, like she could peel away one corner of your shame and get you to unfold every dark piece of yourself that you’d been holding too tightly. But it was tinged with something else. Disappointment? No, betrayal. You didn’t continue speaking.

“You do realize that you’ve put this entire investigation in jeopardy?” she asked. It sounded more like an admonishment than a question.

“I can still do my job!” You hated that you sounded so defensive.

Liv looked truly angry for the first time since you walked into her office. She shook her hair away from her face and gazed up at the ceiling as if searching the instructions on what to do with you.

“Take a week off,” she said with finality.

“The last thing I need is distance from this case,” you immediately argued.

“You should be grateful I’m not putting you on suspension. You have vacation. Use it.”

You tossed the photos and their envelope onto Liv’s desk and retreated to the couch in the corner. Elbows on knees, you threaded your fingers into your hair. You saw a tear fall from your face onto the tile floor before you realized yourself that you were crying.

Olivia emerged from behind her desk and closed the distance between you in a few steps. She sat near you on the couch, and when she moved a hand to place it gently on your shoulder you shrugged it off.

“I’m fine.” You stood suddenly, wiped the tears from your face and moved toward the door. You stopped with your fingers on the handle. “Do you need to disclose our relationship to anyone other than the squad?”

Liv stood, but didn’t walk any closer to you. Through your tear filled eyes, you could see her face was stern but full of sympathy. “In an official capacity, the woman in those photos will be an unknown person for the time being. There will be reasonable doubt about who she is. But, in order to effectively conduct this investigation and stop this perp from hurting either you or Barba, the squad will know what we’re dealing with.”

You nodded once.

“I can’t control what you do in your free time, but it seems like it would be a wise decision to stay home,” she said. It was an order, both to stay away from the case and Rafael. “We’ll post an officer outside your apartment as well.”

This didn’t reassure you, but you knew better than to argue as you exited Liv’s office. You gathered your coat and phone, and left, unable to make eye contact with any of your fellow Detectives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed writing this chapter, let me know what you think! :)


	8. Chapter 8

It had been two days since the photos arrived on the desks of both your Lieutenant and Rafael.

You made one call to Rafael after you left the precinct and you hadn’t talked to him since. You updated him on your situation and begrudgingly told him you couldn’t have any contact until the case was solved.

Of course he seemed perfectly understanding, logistical even. You appreciated and hated it. He made it easier for you to follow proper protocol, but you also wished, just a little, that he would sound disappointed at the thought of not being able to talk to you for a while.

The idleness of being stuck at home was suffocating you. Not to mention the consistent, pervasive feeling that you weren’t safe.

You realized that the perp threatening Barba likely knew who you were. They sent the photos to Barba and Liv. There was a chance that it was only to put pressure on SVU because of their involvement with Barba, but if the perp had been stalking Barba, it seemed likely they knew exactly who you were.

Your body reclined, but did not relax, as you laid on your couch. The leggings you had on were comfortable, but the t-shirt left something to be desired. You desired that it was Rafael’s faded Harvard shirt instead. On the coffee table next to you rested a notebook where you had been scribbling details, trying to parse out anything useful about the mystery perp that had so invaded your life. Next to that was a stemmed wine glass with a healthy pour of three-dollar chardonnay.

A drop of condensation began to roll down the glass, collecting smaller pinpricks of moisture as it fell to the base. Looking into the crisp golden liquid you saw Rafael’s face, chuckling as you insisted that cheap wine was just as good as any other.

As you reminisced, the perspective changed. Your view grew distant and you were outside yourself. Outside the window of Raf’s apartment. The stalker’s photo was your field of view, freezing and tainting the golden memory once more. The shadowy figure of the unknown cop burst into your imagination, leaving room for nothing else.

You shut your eyes suddenly to wipe the nightmare away, but it persisted on the backs of you eyelids.

“Fuck!” you shouted and sat up, opening your eyes once more. You reached for your phone. You weren’t sure what you were doing with it.

Yes, you were.

You wanted to talk to Rafael. The one person who knew  _ exactly _ what you were going through. Who held the same fear, and same paranoia.

The phone lit up as you unlocked it.

You opened your texting app and tapped Rafael’s contact. Your gaze was assaulted by the screenshot of the threatening text. You had forgotten that it was the last text you had shared two days ago.

Instead, you opened your chat with Amanda. You had texted her yesterday afternoon.

_ 1:13pm _

_ Any updates? _

__

_ 1:32pm _

_ Nothing yet. _

__

Now what the fuck were you supposed to say?

You gave up and held the power button on your phone until it turned off. The temptation to call Rafael was too strong.

Unable to calm your fidgeting hands, you rose and headed directly for your bathroom. You pulled open the medicine cabinet and took a bottle of mild sleeping pills from the shelf. The child safety cap came off with a slight struggle, and you tipped the bottle to the side until 6 pills came rushing out. You dumped 5 back and held the one remaining capsule in your palm as you secured the lid once more.

_ Is this stupid?  _ You asked yourself as you plopped back into the couch, sinking into the worn cushions.  _ Do I care? _

You dry swallowed the pill and chased it with a healthy sip of your cheap wine, reclining once again.

Now you just needed a distraction until the sleeping pill kicked in.

The remote for the TV was too far away. The notepad of scribbled case details was within reach so you settled for that. Flipping through the dozen or so pages of various notes you tried to search out any new connections that you hadn’t seen before. Nothing. There was nothing useful you could do from your couch.

You swallowed more of your wine. Feeling a little tipsy, you lowered your consciousness into the drink, allowing the alcohol to begin to lift you up by your stomach and the back of your neck like floating in a warm bath. The warmth of it slowly spread to your fingertips and teeth. You were thankful that it dulled your anxiety.

More nonsense in that notebook.

More wine.

Less fear.

Finally, your eyes slowly shut and you let sleep begin to take you.

_ Knock, knock, knock. _

With a soft gasp you jolted awake at the sound of heavy rapping at your door. Your consciousness felt like it was slipping like sand between your fingers. Blinking into the dim light from lamp next to your couch, you wondered vaguely how long you had slept. You also wondered if you had dreamed that sound.

Then it happened again.  _ Knock, knock, knock. _ It sounded more urgent this time.

The sleeping pill and alcohol kept your heart beating slow, and your mind was still half asleep as you slowly approached your door. It was dead bolted, you reminded yourself. You shut one eye and peered blearily though the peep hole with the other.

A cop?

A uniformed officer stood in front of your door, his head and shoulders looking absurdly proportioned in the fish eye view through your peep hole. It was a tall man in his mid to late 40s, short-cropped greying hair, and pockmarked skin. He looked familiar. He looked expectant and agitated.

This wasn’t the officer assigned to your security detail.

You studied his face, willing your brain to work faster as it fought through the haze to connect any relevant synapses.  _ Homicide. _

He worked in Homicide. Soik. His name was _something_ Soik, you’d worked a case or two with him before.

Soik raised his hairy knuckled fist to your door again and knocked thrice more.

You jumped back and had to put your hands over your mouth to keep from yelping at the noise.

After a moment of quiet, you were hopeful he wasn’t going to break your door down. You carefully made your way forward again, pushing the entirety of your bare foot down against the shallow carpet with each step, praying you didn’t make a sound.

Your nose lightly touched the painted wood of your door as the view through the peep hole opened up before your eye once more.

He was leaving. You sighed in relief, watching the back of his uniform recede down the hall until he was gone.

Not bothering to be quiet now, you rushed back over to snatch your phone off the coffee table. In your sleepy haze you stubbed your toe on the leg of coffee table, knocking over the remaining wine. You swore under your breath when a spike of pain shot through the fog in your head.

You hobbled over to the kitchen to grab a towel for the spill. Satisfied enough with the quickly sopped up mess, you tossed the towel onto the tile floor of your kitchen and limped back to the couch to retrieve your phone which had also fallen to the floor.

_ C’mon, turn on, turn on. _

Each second felt an hour as you started at that stupid screen willing it to load faster.

Your home screen finally loaded. You opened your texts and started frantically typing to Liv.

_ copa t my door soil fromh o _

__

Two low voices resonated from behind your door. You froze. Your eyes flitted to the drawer next to your door where you kept your gun.  _ Why didn’t I grab my gun? _

The voices stopped and were replaced by the jingling of what sounded like a full set of keys. One of those keys fit your door.

Acting on pure instinct you scrambled over the back of your couch and shielded yourself from the door. You heard it open a second later.

“The NYPD thanks you for your help,” one of the voices said, smarm lacing his words. “Now get inside,” the voice suddenly switched, it was aggressive. The other man let out a shocked “oh” as you heard him get pulled into the apartment.

The door closed.

“What is this?” the second voice asked with terror in his voice. You recognized it. The night desk worker, Larry. Soik must have convinced him to unlock the door.

You hear Soik’s voice ring out, filling your ears, “Come out little Detective, or this sweet old receptionist will take a bullet.”

The adrenaline coursing through your body allowed some clarity in your mind, but it wasn’t enough. A thousand thoughts raced through your head, none of them completely coherent and none of them useful.

You raised your hands above your head and slowly rose from the ground to face the intruder. Soik stood with his gun trained at Larry. You shared a glance with Larry and tried to look even remotely reassuring. You were sure it didn’t work.

Then you trained your eyes on Soik. Sweat stains marred the armpits and neckline of his uniform. His brow was furrowed and his eyes, full of desperation, kept darting between you and Larry. Despite the frantic energy emanating from him, his gun was perfectly steady, the barrel pointing directly at Larry’s heart.

“Okay, let’s all stay calm,” you started, making sure Soik could see your hands.

“Don’t start that de-escalation training bullshit with me,” Soik snapped at you. “Get your cuffs. Go!” he insisted after you didn’t move immediately.

“My cuffs are in the drawer next to the door. So is my gun.” You pointed to them without lower your hand. “I’m not going to do anything stupid. If you hand them to me, I’ll put them on myself.”

“They’re not for you,” Soik replied, moving toward the drawer without moving his gun away from poor Larry.

He grabbed the cuffs and tossed them to you, with a demand. “Cuff him to the radiator,” he gestured to Larry, who was shuddering, sweat dripping down his face, his hands also in the air.

You slowly approached the man, and grabbed one arm to cuff it like he was under arrest. Larry had always been sweet to you when you arrived home after a long shift. You hoped you could repay him for his kindness and this mess that he was in now. With the other cuff securely around the main radiator pipe, you raised your hands once more and returned your gaze to Soik.

He redirected his gun at your chest. Your breath hitched at the sight of the barrel, the small black hole in the end looming large, like a void waiting to consume you. Once you felt you could speak again, you said, “He’s secure, he’s not going to cause any trouble. What do you need from me now? Why are you here?”

“Put on your shoes, we’re going for a ride. And don’t even think about going for your gun,” he said with finality.

He didn’t answer your second question. Why was he here? Was Rafael alright? Had someone barged into his apartment too? 

You weren’t dead yet, so this is more than just an attempt on your life.  _ Hopefully. _ You debated in your mind whether to reveal that you knew who he was. Waiting seemed like the best option until you could figure out what he wanted.

You slowly slipped your running shoes onto your bare feet and laced them up. As you stood up, you saw Soik raise a hand out of the corner of your eye. You flinched as you heard a thud.

“No!” you shouted. Larry slumped over, one arm suspended by the cuffs. The fresh wound on his head was already bleeding. Soik had knocked him out with one solid hit of the butt of his gun.

“Shut up!” he hissed at you, through gritted teeth. “One more word out of you and I will put a bullet in his fucking head, you hear me?” He didn’t wait for you to agree. “Get your keys. We’re going to walk slowly and calmly down to my car. If you make one wrong move or say one wrong word to anyone, I will not hesitate to put a bullet through your skull.”

“There is a security detail downstairs. I am supposed to report to them when I go anywhere, they will ask where I’m going.”

“Don’t worry, I sent the officer home already. They were just stupid enough not to question a Sergeant,” he bragged.

His eyes were dark like the promise of death staring you down from the barrel of his gun. With no other choice, you obliged him. You locked your door behind you, leaving sweet Larry bleeding out on the floor. The regret of your inability to save him festered in your belly.

It was late, so you encountered no one on your way out to Soik’s car. It wasn’t a squad car, which didn’t surprise you. It was a plain, dark car, probably American. Nondescript. You tried to memorize the details of the vehicle in the short time you have before he shoved you into the back seat.

He pulled his own cuffs off his belt and looped them around the headrest of the passengers seat in front of you, clasping them to both of your wrists. He didn’t say a word as got into the drivers seat and started the car. You watched carefully as he put his gun on the passengers seat in front of you. Inches away. He was taunting you.

You tried to stay alert and vigilant throughout the drive, but the adrenaline eventually gave way to the the sleeping pill and alcohol still flowing sluggishly in your veins. The details were fleeting, but you remembered what you could. Soik wasn’t avoiding the street cams you knew of outside your apartment. He took the main roads, he was speeding, though not by much.

_ Is he trying to get caught? Counting on it? _

Your wrists and shoulders ached from the position you were locked in. Unable to sit all the way against the seat behind you, your back arched and your spine burned dully.

Soik’s demeanor was calmer now, more in control. His body language seemed to say that this was going according to plan.  _ What is his plan?  _ A bulging vein in his neck was slowly and regularly pulsing with his heartbeat. You idly imagined piercing it with a blade and watching him bleed.

After a while, you realized you were leaving the city. “Where are you taking me?”

“Don’t worry Detective, your squad will have your back. That’s what cops do isn’t it? Have each other’s backs.” You heard disdain in his voice. “They’ll find you.”

_ Find me alive? Or dead? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't mix drugs and alcohol kids.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thanks for the comments and kudos so far. Let me know what you think.


	9. Chapter 9

Rollins tapped her pen on her desk and bit her lip. She and Carisi were working late, finishing paperwork from a recently closed rape/homicide. She found herself distracted, thinking about Barba’s stalker. The forensics from the envelopes of photos that both Liv and Barba had received gave nothing useful for the case. No return address, no finger prints, no fibers.

Amanda glanced at the empty chair, tucked against the desk next to hers.

The shutters on Liv’s door jostled as she emerged, her coat draped over her arm, phone in hand. “I am heading out, I’ll see you all tomorrow.”

“Lieu, wait!” Carisi came rushing into the room, just pulling his phone down from his ear. His lips formed a deep frown. “We might have a problem.”

***

Carisi briefed the squad as they arrived in front of the apartment building. “The cop on security, McMillan, said a Sergeant relieved them of their post early. Says this Sergeant claimed he would tell McMillan’s C.O. that he was being insubordinate if he didn’t follow the orders to leave. He doesn’t remember the Sergeants name.”

“That rookie is going to be in worse trouble now,” Rollins scoffed.

Liv held up a hand as if to say,  _ Now is not the time.  _ “Barba is safe at home. He says he hasn’t had contact with her at all and no threats since the photos. His security detail knows to keep an eye out for an officer acting suspicious.”

“I called three times on the way here; she’s not answering her phone,” Amanda said, looking meaningfully at her Lieutenant.

“Let’s go inside and see what we’re dealing with,” Liv replied.

They passed the empty desk in the small lobby on the ground floor of the building and climbed the two flights of stairs.

“Door is locked,” Amanda confirmed, as she jiggled the handle. “No sign of forced entry.”

She knocked on the door and waited a beat. She knocked again after there was no answer.

“Detective?” Liv called. “Are you in there?”

“Can we get keys?” Rollins asked.

“There’s no one at the desk,” Carisi replied.

Liv considered for just a second before making eye contact with Carisi and nodding once at the door. He squared up with entrance and kicked it in immediately, shattering the door frame as the deadbolt pushed through the wood to the other side.

They moved in practiced formation with each other, fanning out to clear the room.

Amanda was the first to notice the elderly man, slumped and covered in his own blood, his arm handcuffed to the radiator. Radio static sounded briefly before she called in for an ambulance. “He’s got a pulse,” she confirmed for the others. “We found the desk attendant, I recognize him.”

Carisi shot her an inquisitive look.

“Girls’ nights,” she responded nonchalantly.

They soon discovered the apartment was empty otherwise and began to more closely investigate the scene.

Rollins grabbed a towel and held it to the head wound of the desk man. She unlocked his cuffs, letting his arm fall.

“Lieu, her phone’s here,” Carisi said from the living room.

Liv returned from the bedroom. “All the windows are locked, no sign of damage anywhere else. Call for backup, call CSU to get us anything from this room they can. Don’t disturb anything. When they get here, start canvassing the neighbors. We need to find her now. Anyone know her phone pass code?”

“Yeah, actually,” Carisi replied. This time Amanda shot him a confused look and he shrugged noncommittally. He donned a latex glove from his pocket to keep from ruining any fingerprints and unlocked the phone.

“Liv, she was writing a text to you. This mean anything to you?” he turned the phone towards her so she could examine the unsent message. The cool light washed over her concerned expression.

_ copa t my door soil fromh o _

“Cop at my door. Soil? From H.O. or just O? I can’t tell.” Liv read aloud, interpreting the near incoherent text.

“Soil from home?” Carisi postulated. “Well, she knew there was a police officer at her door and she knew something was wrong.”

“Yeah, looks like he caught her by surprise too,” Amanda gestured to the spilled wine glass, which had rolled part way under the couch.

***

CSU, back up officers and the ambulance arrived in mere minutes. The injured desk attendant was rushed to the hospital, still unconscious. Liv gave an order that she be notified as soon as he wakes up.

Fin had arrived, the situation had interrupted a lovely dinner for one that he was partaking of on his couch. Liv was briefing him.

In the small office off the apartment lobby, Rollins and Carisi stood behind the tech who was sitting at a laptop. A different screen, mounted on the wall, showed medium resolution footage of the lobby beside them. The camera angle looked down at the desk and entrance doors.

There was no time stamp on the unsent text, so Rollins had ordered the tech to start looking back through recent footage until they saw anyone. There was just video, no sound. Eventually, the footage from about an hour previously showed the desk manager back in his chair.

“Stop there,” Carisi pointed at the screen. “Go forward from that point and find anyone who came or approached the desk around there.” The tech hit play once more.

Carisi and Rollins leaned in over the seated tech to get as close a look at the screen as possible. The sped up footage zipped by before them, barely any movement other than the occasional shift of the desk worker and the lights of cars passing the glass entrance doors. One beam of light was interrupted by a figure in a blue police uniform entering the lobby.

“There’s our guy,” Carisi commented.

The tech immediately reduced the speed of the footage to real time to watch the prime suspect’s movements.

The man walked in a hurried fashion, making no effort to conceal his face. He flashed his badge at the desk manager and they had a brief conversation. The manager opened a file on the computer, matching the urgency of the mystery cop. He clearly found what he was looking for and pointed toward the stairwell. The man in blue raised a hand as if to say thank you, and rushed to the stairs.

Rollins immediately remarked on the scene before them, “So he walks in here, pretends to have urgent police business, and gets the desk manager to tell him the apartment number.” There was frustration on her tongue.

The lines on Carisi’s face grew deeper, as he considered the image of the man in blue.

The tech continued the footage. About three minutes later, the cop rushed back into the lobby, his body language even more urgent than before. The elderly desk manager stood up and said something, concern on his face. They conversed briefly, and the desk manager grabbed his keys from the drawer of the desk and then followed the cop, not even looking back.

“He had no idea what was coming,” Rollins said regretfully.

“I recognize that cop,” Carisi said.

Amanda looked at him, astonishment on her face.

Carisi continued, “It took me a second to place him, but he works in Homicide. He was assigned right after I left.”

At that moment Liv and Fin re-entered the building and they approached the closet sized office the other Detectives stood in.

“Anything from the footage?” Liv asked.

“Yeah,” Carisi began, “Our guy is a cop who works in Homicide.”

“The text,” Liv said, realization dawning on her face. “Soil from H.O. She had started typing ‘homicide.’”

“She recognized him?” Fin asked. “Soil?”

“Go back to his face,” Liv ordered the tech, who looked vaguely uncomfortable being surrounded on all sides in the cramped room.

Once the footage was paused on the perp’s face, Fin immediately said, “Shit.” The Detectives and the tech look at him expectantly as he stared at the image of the cop’s face. “Soik. That’s Gregory Soik, he’s a Sergeant.”

“It’s not  _ soil _ , it’s  _ Soik _ ,” Liv confirmed, referring to the text again.

“It auto-corrected,” Rollins said. “She must have been typing fast.”

The tech continued the footage until just a few minutes later, Soik walked back into frame, the kidnapped Detective in tow.

“There she is,” Carisi said. “Soik has his hand on his gun. He’s basically forcing her at gunpoint,” he said angrily as he gestured wildly at the screen.

Liv told the technician to send her all the footage.

The SVU squad returned to the apartment lobby and Liv gave orders, keeping her voice commanding but low to avoid the attention of any other cops around the scene. “Fin, get me everything you can on Soik. If this is still about Terrence Reynolds there must be a connection there.”

Fin nodded.

“Carisi, Rollins, find out if he stayed in the street cams. That footage was from an hour ago so he has a head start. Get TARU to ping his phone, send a unit to his apartment. We need to find out where he’s taking her. Call Barba for any warrants you need, and-” she looked meaningfully at Amanda. “Give him an update. He deserves to know what’s happening.”

The squad nodded solemnly before Liv gave a final order, “We have no idea what Soik wants or what his connections are. Tread carefully.”


	10. Chapter 10

The ride was eerily silent. Soik never turned on the radio, never spoke, never so much as cleared his throat. The only sounds were the occasional white noise of late night traffic and the hum of tires propelling you ever farther from the city. Though you were speeding along, time was standing still. The stars above you hung stationary in the sky, as if proving that the universe had stopped moving.

You weren’t sure how long he’d been driving but you guessed it was more than an hour at least.

He made no effort to conceal where he was taking you. This either meant that he intended to be found, or that he didn’t plan to release you alive.

You were somewhere in the middle of New Jersey when Soik pulled off the highway onto a county road. The muscles in your back ached with every pothole and bump.

Finally, after a few more rural and unkempt roads, Soik pulled the car over onto the shoulder and turned to face you. He reached into his pocket and slipped a key into your hand. Then your captor spoke in a low, even voice, “Uncuff yourself. Don’t do anything stupid.”

This caught you by such surprise that you didn’t move for a moment. Soik picked up his gun off the passengers seat and slipped it into his side holster. Your momentary surprise faded and you scrambled to take off the cuffs binding your own wrists.

You stretched your sore back and glanced out the window at the woods surrounding you. The forest seemed to be inviting you to be swallowed by the inky blackness between its trees. Running was a bad idea, but you wished more than anything it was a viable option. Instead, you sat back against the seat and waited. Soik put the car back in drive and pulled off the shoulder.

He spoke once more as the ride resumed. “We’re going to a motel. You’re going to come in with me and we’ll pay cash for a night. If you look or act suspicious in any way I will put a bullet in your brain.”

You didn’t reply and he didn’t need you to. You did, however, ask a simple question, “Why are you doing this?”

“You don’t need to know. You just need to shut your mouth and play along,” he said.

You prayed for some freak accident to flip the car.

***

Rollins join the rest of her squad in the precinct. “No info on Soik’s phone, it’s turned off. He’s not in his squad car, so no GPS. He has no family. Lives alone. There’s a BOLO for the plates we got off the street cams, but no sightings on that yet. Based on the footage from the street cams that we could follow, we think he’s headed for New Jersey.”

“Any word on his past? Prior allegations? Any connections to Terrence Reynolds?” Liv asked.

Sonny piped up this time, “No priors or complaints, his record is clean. But guess who he used to work with in the 27 th precinct?” He paused for effect. “Donlan.”

“One of the cops from the Reynolds case?” Fin asked. Carisi nodded.

“It’s the best lead we’ve got so far. Let’s go to Rikers and chat with our friend Donlan again,” Liv said, and motioned for Carisi to follow.

***

Liv paced the room looking like a tiger in cage. Carisi sat forward, leaning his elbows on the table before him. Deep worry lines were etched across his face. One empty table and waves of disdain were all that separated them from Kevin Donlan. Donlan had a weak chin, which, coupled with his recently buzzed hair and petulant expression, made it easy to dislike him.

He conveniently had little to say about his relationship with Gregory Soik. He would only insist Soik was a decent cop and failed to elaborate any further.

After a long half hour of getting nowhere, the tension in the room was palpable. Time was ticking, and Donlan knew he could use that to his advantage. These were all cops, all trained and taught the same interrogation tricks. A nearly even playing field, and Donlan had the advantage.

Benson finally decided that they’d had enough. She knew they weren’t going to get anything without revealing the situation, so she played their last card. “Soik has kidnapped a fellow officer. If there is  _ anything _ you know that would lead us to him or help us find out why he did this, I would suggest you tell us now.”

A moment passed.

Carisi stood and picked up his jacket when Donlan suddenly piped up. “Wait, wait, I think I might remember something,” he said slyly.

Carisi scowled and shared a knowing glance with Liv as he turned to face Donlan again.

“Oh, you’ve suddenly remembered relevant details?” Sonny asked dryly.

Donlan leaned forward like a businessman engaging a new prospect. “I think it might be easier for me to remember some facts about Soik if there was something in it for me. Maybe your friend Barba can cut me a deal.”

“Maybe we don’t charge you with obstruction of justice and you’ll remember,” Carisi scowled at him. Anger flashed in Carisi’s eyes at the mention of Barba. Donlan noticed.

“Oh, is this about him too? Did that son-of-a-bitch ADA finally get what was coming to him?” Donlan was taunting them now. It almost worked.

Liv responded, her voice even and low, “We’ll talk to the ADA about reducing your sentence for the manslaughter charges. But how much will depend on what information you have for us about Soik. And you better not have anything to do with this, or you’ll never see the other side of these walls. Does Soik have anything to do with Barba?”

Donlan, clearly satisfied with the possible deal, shrugged, “No, nothing, as far as I know. What I do know is that Soik had a taste for ladies of the night.”

“Sex workers?” Carisi asked to confirm. He scoffed. “If that’s everything you have then we’re done here.”

Donlan sat forward, the first spark of desperation showing itself on his face. “Wait, wait, there’s more. When I was a rookie, a prostitute shows up crying rape, claimed it was Soik. He said the claim was bullshit, that he didn’t even know her. I don’t think he even filed a report.”

“Is there anything else you remember? Her name? Anyone else working when this happened?” Liv asked.

Donlan thought for a second. “Kylie, Kira, something like that. I don’t remember her last name. But if Soik was so anxious to cover that up, who knows what else he’s swept under the rug with the badge.”

***

“Just one night,” Soik answered the man sitting behind the motel counter. You handed over the required cash, since you had the use of both of your hands.

Soik stood with his arm around you, his gun pressed up against the underside of your ribs. His insurance that you would play your new undercover role perfectly. To the desk attendant, who’s name tag read Carl, it just looked like Soik had politely placed his hand on the small of your back.

“You here on police business?” Carl asked, glancing at Soik’s uniform and badge. He didn’t notice the empty holster at his hip.

“I am not at liberty to discuss,” Soik replied dryly. He pressed the gun harder against your side, which prompted you to give Carl a slight smile, as if to say,  _ Everything is fine. Don’t worry. _

“Room 16.” Carl handed you a room key and pointed vaguely toward the far side of the parking lot.

“Thanks Carl,” you said sweetly.

The motel was shabby, which was putting it kindly. In the dark, it could easily be a setting for a horror movie. Like the horror movie you were currently living. The exterior was clearly old and needed a coat of paint. A ground level rusty sign at the entrance to the lot read  _ VACANCY  _ in flickering neon. You could count on one hand how many other vehicles were scattered across the parking lot.

Soik didn’t lower his gun from your back until you were securely in the room. You stood still just inside the doorway while he closed the thick dusty curtains and slid the chain lock into place.

“Sit,” he commanded. You perched on the very edge of the bed closest to the door. “Put these back on,” Soik said and tossed the handcuffs back to you once more.

You do not follow this order. “C’mon, I haven’t run yet, I’m going to try now. Whatever you’re doing here, I’m going to see it through.” This would all be easier if you could convince him you were on his side.

It was time to start getting some answers from him. You held onto the hope that your squad will eventually notice your disappearance. Carl saw Soik with you. One witness was enough.

Two, if Larry survives. You suddenly regret not knowing more about Larry. Almost every night of the week he greets you and you don’t even know his last name. Does he have a family? Kids, grand kids? You made a silent promise to yourself to get to know him better if you both make it out of this alive.

Your captor positioned himself in front of you. He leaned on the small dresser across from the bed, gun still in hand but not pointed directly at you anymore. He didn’t ask you to put on the cuffs again.

“What do you want?” you cautiously asked him. “You’re a cop; you have power. Why take me?”

Soik glanced at the covered window, a modicum of paranoia written across his face.

After thinking for a moment he looked straight into your eyes. “I want assurance. A guarantee that I’ll be protected, that someone will have my back!” he growled.

You tried to keep your confusion from altering your expression. “What do you need to be protected from?”

“From backstabbing scum like you and that fucking ADA!” his voice rose aggressively and he waved his gun toward you when he addressed you. You weren’t able to stop yourself from flinching as the eye of his gun met you once more. He continued, “Cops are supposed to have each others backs. To protect each other, and I know that all the weak links in the NYPD are going to cost me my life. I hear the whispers; I know they talk about me.”

He was looking more and more deranged as seconds passed. His eyes looked wild, and you resigned yourself to the fact that he couldn’t be reasoned with. You wondered if this is how Mike had felt while he was staring at the end of Munson’s gun.

***

“Kira Dufresne, known sex worker. There was no filed report about her rape accusation,” Rollins updated the squad. Everyone sat in the briefing area of the squad room holding cups of burned precinct coffee and looking at what little information they had about Gregory Soik.

“If the rape wasn’t reported, why do we have a file on her?” Carisi asked.

“Kira Dufresne was raped and murdered eight months ago,” Rollins replied, her face dark.

A mixture of confusion and concern was shared among the Detectives. Liv answered the unspoken question that was lingering between them, “That case never came across my desk. Why was there a rape/homicide that we didn’t hear about?”

Rollins held the file up, “Homicide closed the case three days after the autopsy report came back. The cause of death was listed as strangulation, and then a note was added later that it was self-inflicted.”

“Well, that’s fishy,” Fin said.

“Was our Sergeant from Homicide on that case?” Liv asked.

Rollins dropped the file onto the table. “You guessed it: Gregory Soik was the lead detective on the Dufresne case.”

At that moment, Rafael Barba turned the corner and rushed into the precinct. His usual calm and collected facade was cracking. The Detectives would’ve seen right through it even without knowing what he was going through.

But they did know. Each of them in that room knew about the secret relationship. They knew it was his partner who was taken.

“Rafael,” Liv addressed him sympathetically. “Why aren’t you at home?”

“Save the admonishment,” he held a hand up to her. “I can’t keep waiting around for scraps of updates.” His voice was more severe than he had intended. “And I’m safer here anyways,” he added more softly as a kind of apology to them. He knew they were doing the best they could.

Barba threw his jacket onto the back of a chair and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, as if getting to work. No one moved or said another word. “Well?” he broke the silence. “What have you got so far?”

Rollins glance at the Dufresne file again as if it would tell her the answer to Barba’s question.

Liv was the one who answered, “Frankly, we don’t have much.” She would never say this to the family of a kidnapped person, but Rafael was  _ their _ family, and Liv knew he deserved to know.

Rafael tried and failed to hide his impatience. He responded with conviction, “Soik must have taken her to get to me. He was the one who took the photos, who was stalking me, threatening me. What does he want? Money? Reduced sentence for someone? I’ll do it any of it.”

“Rafa, we don’t know that,” Liv stopped him. “We don’t know why he took her.”

He was about to protest, but Liv’s phone interrupted them. “Benson,” she answers.

Rafael ran a hand through his hair. He peered at the rest of the Detectives, one by one, daring them to disagree with him.

After a brief conversation, Liv hung up the phone. “That was TARU. Soik turned his phone back on. We know where he is.”

The Detectives stood at once, immediately preparing to leave. Barba also quickly grabbed his jacket before Liv stopped him. “Barba you have to stay here.”

He looked at her like she was stupid. “I’m going with you,” he demanded.

“We might be walking into a hostage situation and they’re nearly an hour and a half away,” she argued.

“Even more reason for me to be there,”  _ for her _ , his eyes seemed to say, knowing Liv would understand. “ _ If _ this is some disturbed ploy for revenge on me, then I should be there.”

He was persuasive, as always.

“Let’s go,” Liv agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw// hostage situation, language
> 
> I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think.  
> Thanks to the discord peeps for being inspiring and oh so kind. <3

The flickering neon light of the hotel sign was drowned out by flashing blue and red. The parking lot was newly filled with squad cars, and ESU from Jersey.

Rafael sat in the back seat of a squad car parked on the outer edge of the lot, as far away from the action as he could be while still observing. He felt like a coward when he made sure to lock the doors after Carisi exited the vehicle. The bullet-proof vest velcroed around Rafael’s dress shirt was hard and digging into his hips. He wondered idly how the Detectives wore these so often.

A light sheen of sweat covered his forehead and the back of his neck despite the cool night around him. The still air in the squad car felt suffocating.

Room 16 looked innocuous enough from the outside. He could only see a portion of the front of the room between the surrounding police cars, flashing lights, and cops with their service weapons at the ready. The curtains were drawn over the window. There was no way to tell what was going on inside, but Rafael found himself imagining the worst.

He had never felt so useless in his life.

Rafael’s eyes tracked Liv as she approached one of the Jersey officers.

They shared a few words. Liv nodded and the technician pulled out a mobile phone unit and handed her the receiver.

The nearby militia of officers stood ready and waiting as Liv held the phone to her ear. After a moment, she nodded. Soik had picked up.

***

You watched, shaking, as Soik picked up the ringing phone. He didn’t say anything into the receiver for a long moment, until finally he responded to whoever was on the other end. “Yes, your precious little Detective is here with me.” He looked at you with pure hatred and paused again, listening.

Then he lowered the receiver and cocked his head, signaling for you to approach him.

You stood and he placed the phone into your hand. It felt electric, like it was pushing pins and needles into your palm.

Soik gave you a dark look and pointed his gun directly at your head. Another warning to behave for him. You felt like you were so close to the end of this waking nightmare.  _ Please, let me make it out alive _ .

“Detective, are you there?” The sound of Liv’s voice had never brought you such relief. The panic and fear that had been bubbling just below the surface overwhelmed you, but now it was mixed with hope that your squad could get you out of this.

“I’m here, I’m okay,” you told her. Your throat was so tight it was a miracle you could speak at all.

“Okay, we’re going to get you out as soon as we can. Do you know what he wants?” she asked you quietly.

“No, no he hasn’t hurt me,” you replied, concealing Olivia’s question from Soik.

“That’s enough,” Soik aggressively wrestled the phone from your hands and grabbed your arm roughly. He shoved you back onto the bed, leaving you with the ghost of his touch aching just below your shoulder.

This act of violence was new. He was slipping.

***

Liv nodded at Carisi and Rollins who were nearby as if to say,  _ she’s safe. _

Tentative relief washed over their faces.

Liv switched the phone unit to speaker so the nearby hostage negotiator could hear the call and help when needed.

“Okay Sergeant Soik, we’re here just to talk. Can you tell me why we’re here?”

Soik replied quickly, he sounded manic, “We’re here because of you! You, your squad, that stupid fucking ADA. All of you are a poison to the NYPD!”

Liv was colored vaguely shocked, a look she shared with her squad around her.

“Okay Sergeant, can you- can you give me any details so I can help you resolve this?” Liv continued into the phone.

The paranoia in his voice was apparent, even through the speaker, “Ah, you already know all the details. I know it, you’ve all been talking about it behind my back. You know everything and you’re all just waiting to screw another good cop over for a small mistake. Just like you did to Donlan.”

“Is this about Donlan?” Liv asked.

“No, it’s about all the selfish, holier-than-thou cops like  _ you _ . And this pretty little Detective I have here at the end of my gun.”

Liv sighed sharply, her lips forming a tight line as the sigh turned to mist in the cool night air. “I know you don’t want any blood on your hands Sergeant.”

“I already have blood on my hands. That’s why you’re here, what all the whispers have been about. You’re all here to throw me under the bus for  _ nothing _ ,” Liv could picture the spit hitting the hotel phone. “For one dead whore. I’m not going down for that.”

“Why don’t you come out here so we can talk?” Liv proposed.

“You think I’m fucking stupid, don’t you?” Soik growled. “I know you’re all out there ready to shoot me or arrest me. That’s not going to happen. Not if you want your Detective back.”

Liv looked to the hostage negotiator for what to say next. The negotiator rolled a pointer finger in circles as if to say,  _ keep him talking. _

“No, no I don’t think you’re stupid. Sergeant, we don’t want you to get hurt, or my Detective,” Liv assured him, although she was lying through her teeth. She did want to hurt him. She wanted him dead.

“Alright we’re done chatting, bitch. I want a written declaration of full immunity. No one can touch me. I’ll retire early and live my life however the fuck I want. You and your squad are going to make up for all the cops you’ve back-stabbed by watching  _ my _ back.”

“Okay, that’s something we can do. I’m going to work on that now, let me see what I can do,” she stated clearly, and then placed the phone on mute.

Carisi approached, half-crouched behind the squad car next to Liv. “Did he just admit to the murder of Kira Dufresne?”

“Not in so many words,” Liv said darkly. “If he confesses we can nail this bastard on as many charges as he’s good for.”

The negotiator chimed in, “Don’t agitate him any further. He already seems out of his right mind, so we might not be able to reason with him. If you make it sound at all like you don’t have his back, he will shoot the hostage.”

“We can’t actually grant him immunity for murder,” she protested.

“I’m not suggesting that, but you have to make him believe it until we can get her out of there safely.”

Liv nodded and unmuted her end of the line into Room 16.

She spoke once more into the receiver, “Okay Sergeant, we want to help you. We’re on your side here. I’m going to talk to the DA and be sure we can grant you immunity from your crimes, but you know I can’t do that until you let my Detective come out of there okay?”

Soik started chuckling, “No, no, you know I can’t trust you. You’re the back-stabbers’ ringleader. I need it in writing from your favorite ADA, Rafael Barba. He’s on your side too, but he works for powerful people. He’ll get me an official order of immunity, and he will deliver to me himself.” This was a command.

Liv glanced over at the cop car where she knew Barba was waiting in the back seat.

“I-,” Liv hesitated. She can’t possibly let Barba do this. Not only would she be endangering a civilian, but a friend. The hostage negotiator gave her a stern look. She shook her head and spoke into the phone, “You know I can’t let a civilian into this situation, Sergeant. If this is about the NYPD then we’ll handle it between us, okay?”

Soik didn’t respond. He didn’t hang up, but Liv heard him set the phone down on a hard surface.

Suddenly, the curtain nearest the door of Room 16 was thrown open, revealing a shaking pair of hands pressed to the glass and the terrified Detective they belonged to. She was there, painted blue and red by the flashing lights.

“Don’t shoot!” the Captain from the New Jersey ESU shouted, holding a hand to steady his people.

Soik pushed her up against the glass, and used her as a shield. She provided enough cover that the surrounding officers couldn’t take a clean shot. He knew this. Soik’s gun was pointed just above her right ear, the metal resting at her hairline.

She closed her eyes.

***

You tried to focus on anything but the gun resting at your temple and the disgusting warmth of the man who pressed his body against yours. You pushed your fingertips even harder against the glass, willing the cold seep into your bones and your brain and make you forget what was happening to you. Forget that your captor just said Rafael’s name.

***

From the back seat of the distant squad car, Rafael saw the curtain open. He hadn’t once peeled his eyes away from Room 16. Now it felt like he was watching a bad TV show; the scene before him couldn’t possibly be real.

He unlocked the doors and exited the car. His body was carrying him to get a better view before he knew what he was doing. What he saw was one of the uniformed officer from Jersey approaching him.

“What’s happening?” he asked.

The officer replied, “Lieutenant Benson needs you. Follow me.”

***

Barba stared at the covered window where moments ago she had been. Soik had pulled his hostage back away from the window and closed the curtains once more. He knew better than to give the cops time to get a clear shot.

“I’ll do it,” Barba said with conviction, when Liv told him about Soik’s request.

“No, you won’t,” Liv protested, putting a hand on the kevlar over his chest. “But we’ll draft a convincing order of immunity, we’ll have him watch you sign it, and you will get no closer to that room than here,” she pointed at the ground beneath their feet.

Rafael nodded. “I can make it look real, but you’re not intending this to be legally binding are you?”

Liv looked at him like he had just asked if the moon was really made of cheese.

“Imaginary immunity it is,” he said.

Fifteen minutes later a fake, yet realistic letter of immunity was drafted and printed in the motel office using a printer from the 90s. Rafael clutched a pen in his sweaty hands, imagining there would be a good joke about ‘the pen is mightier than the sword’ somewhere here if the situation weren’t so dire.

Liv picked up the phone once more and addressed the man in Room 16, “Sergeant, are you with me?”

“Mr. Barba made it here from New York already?” he asked, like he was kidding.

“He’s here,” Liv assured him. “We have the writ of your immunity completed, but I need you to compromise with me. You’re a smart cop, you know the rules. I can’t let a civilian into a hostage situation. But Mr. Barba is going to sign the writ where you can watch and then we’ll send it off to the DA and a Judge so they know you’re in the clear okay?”

Soik began yelling over her halfway through her last sentence, “No, no, no are you fucking listening to me?” Liv saw Barba flinch out of the corner of her eye. “Barba isn’t a civilian he’s a criminal. Prove to me that he’s here, I don’t believe you.”

“I am listening, Sergeant; I’m listening,” Liv did her best to keep her voice even and to sound genuine. She was convincing. “I am listening to you, you’re in control here, but I need to keep my people safe. I can show you that Barba is here, alright? My Detective will recognize him, why don’t you have her take a look out the window again. He’ll be standing right next to me.”

Liv put a reassuring hand on Rafael’s shoulder. They faced Room 16 and waited.

***

Gregory Soik was angry now. He had been manic before, desperate even. But you could see his anger, his rage, growing within him. How much longer could he hold onto this fantasy?

He screamed into the phone and demanded that Rafael reveal himself.

_He’s here?_ _No, no he can’t be here,_ you thought to yourself. You couldn’t live with yourself if something bad happened to Rafael because of you.

Soik, still pointing his gun at you, was silent for a moment and looked like he was considering something. Weighing options in his mind.

Apparently, he decided. He set the phone down and approached you quickly, pushing his gun violently against your skull once more. You spread your hands out to your sides and hovered them slightly in the air to show you weren’t a threat.

He grabbed your arm tightly in the same place he had grabbed you before. The already forming bruises pushed a dull pain through your arm. He pulled you up toward the window again. “Tell me if he’s out there.”

“Who?” you asked, to keep him talking. To delay confirming the reality that Rafael was out there, in the thick of danger.

“Your precious lover,” he spat, leaning toward your ear. Soik pulled the curtain open again, just enough for you to see out this time.

Your eyes adjusted to the flashing lights and full scene of cops before you. You’re supposed to be on the other side of this hostage situation. That’s supposed to be you out there, weapon at the ready, your squad by your side.

You’re not supposed to the victim.

And there he stood. Rafael Barba really was there, 40 feet away, next to Liv. He looked like you had never seen him. Profound worry deepened the wrinkles on his brow and jaw. It was so wrong to see a bullet proof vest secured over his expensive dress shirt. You locked eyes with him and warm tears started streaming down your face.

“Raf!” you shouted, desperately pushing your hands against the glass like it might disappear and let you run to him.

Soik quickly wrapped a hand around your neck, anchoring your body back against him again. He sandwiched your throat between his thick, oppressive fingers and his pistol. He whispered in your ear, “Shout like that again and you’re dead.”

You whimpered in response.

“Now,” he continued. “He  _ is _ here. Let’s send lover boy a little message. Why don’t you give him a kiss?” He moved his hand from your throat and gripped your jaw causing your teeth to ache. Unable to speak, you whimpered again as your nose approached the spot of fog your breath had formed on the glass.

The cold spread from your nose, to cheeks, finally to lips as your captor held your face there a moment, flattening your features against the glass. Your tears were left on the window as Soik lessened his grip and let you pull back a few inches.

You could feel the pleasure emanating off of him as he tormented you.

“Please don’t hurt him,” you begged. “You’ll get what you want, just please don’t hurt him.”

You looked out to where Liv and Rafael stood. Tears blurred any details. You were thankful you didn’t have to see their expressions.

_ Please, someone help me. Someone kill him. _


End file.
